


This Old Heart of Mine

by LateStarter58



Series: The Tom and Natalie Stories [4]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Antenatal testing, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Pregnancy, Pregnancy sex, Therapy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-05 16:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16814488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: Life finds a way, as a great man once said...





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> The fourth story in the Tom and Natalie saga, in which things get a little more complicated, and a lot faster than either of them planned.

_“...a higher frequency of gestational diabetes, [...] placenta praevia, postpartum haemorrhage, multiple gestation, intrauterine foetal death…” **From Outcomes of Women Delivering at Very Advanced Maternal Age, Retrospective cohort study using Texas Public Use Data Files 2013/14**_

“Julia? What does it say?”

Natalie’s doctor walked slowly back across the consulting room and sat down, placing the strip from the pregnancy test carefully down on a tissue on her desk. “It’s positive, Natalie.”

There didn’t seem to be anything for her to say to that. It was insane. How could she possibly be pregnant? She was fifty-two, menopausal, she hadn't had sex at all for years, she’d only met Tom a few weeks ago, they’d hardly-

“Natalie?”

“ _Yes_...?”

“I’m sure you need some time to process this news, but whatever you decide to do, we need to do a couple of things immediately, today.”

Natalie snapped fully out of her spiral of thoughts. “Sorry?”

“I realise you’re in shock, Natalie, but until you’ve come to a decision, you need to stop all your medications. None of them have any potentially serious implications for the child, but they are all advised against in pregnancy. And I’m giving you a scrip for some supplements.”

 _I’m pregnant. Yes. Right._ “What about my heart, the valve and everything?”

Julia leaned forward and took her hand. It wasn't the most professional thing to do, but Natalie looked completely lost, and they’d become friends these past few years. “Honestly, I've been talking to your cardiology team about this recently, and they’re planning to wean you off most of it anyway, because you’ve been so well. You don't really need it anymore: your diet is good, you have the new valve and the implant; your blood tests are brilliant. I don’t think, with careful monitoring, which is a given under the circumstances…” She smiled awkwardly and then stopped when she saw Natalie start to well up with tears. “Oh, Natalie, I’m sorry, bad joke, but-”

“No, no, it’s ok, it’s just me, it’s been a weird couple of months all round and now this.” She glanced down at her belly. _What was it I was thinking the other day, about how life carries on regardless of your inner dramas?_

Julia cleared her throat. “I suggest you go home, take the weekend to think, talk to, um, Tom, is it? And Helen perhaps? I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the risks to you and the baby at your age are much increased. All the possible complications are more likely, and the statistics aren’t encouraging when it comes to the chromosomal abnormalities, such as Down’s.” She sighed. “I don’t want to scare you, but nor do I want to sugar coat it. We can talk about all that stuff in more detail on Monday. There are tests, of course. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here to guide you through the whole thing.”

____________________________________________

“Tom?”

“Hi darling, how are you? What did the quack say?”

“Can you come up here tomorrow? I need to see you.”

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“I’m alright, really. It’s just…”

“Nat? You’re frightening me...”

“I’m quite well, love. It’s just that this isn’t... it’s really not something I want to talk about over the phone.”

“I’m coming now.”

“No, Tom, it’s too late.”

“It’s not. I can be there by ten or so.”

“What about Bobby?”

“I’ve just got myself a new car that’s Bob-friendly. I’ve already mostly packed it, actually. I was planning to invite us over for the weekend anyway.”

“Oh, were you?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Of course not. But Helen’s coming over tonight. Come in the morning, please, darling.”

“If you’re sure you’re OK.”

“I am. _Really_. Let me know when you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Will do. I’ll get Bobby to text you en route.”

“Very funny.”

“Nat?”

“Yes, love?

“I love you.”

“Oh Tom, I love you too, my darling.”

She put her phone down on the table and turned to put the kettle on. What will he say? Will he be pleased? Horrified? Angry? She had no idea. She still didn't know how she felt about the pregnancy herself, she certainly had no intuition as to what Tom’s feelings about it would be. But first she had to tell her daughter. Her GP daughter who knew all the pitfalls and complications that might be instore… She made herself a cup of tea and sat down at the table to wait for Helen to arrive.

______________________________________________

Come nine o’clock, three women sat at the table in the kitchen of Holly Cottage. Unusually for the Banks family, the dinner plates were largely untouched because Natalie had made her announcement just before she served the meal. Philippa was typically quiet, but Helen had been very talkative. This had been a covering strategy, because she was finding it hard to know exactly how to feel. Someone who didn’t know her well might have wondered if she would be jealous, or upset; after all, at her age - she was coming up to thirty-one - a healthy, happily-married young woman could have expected to be the one delivering this kind of news. She was worried for her mother, of course, because she knew only too well what lay ahead, and all the possible risks there were. And yet she was strangely excited and happy for her mother; there was something almost magical about this.

“Well,” said Natalie, finally giving up on food and pushing her plate of mostly uneaten salmon and salad further away, “It’s all still in the air, isn’t it? I mean, I have to tell Tom tomorrow, and then we’ll see where we go from there.” She looked at Helen and they both tried unsuccessfully not to think of the worst-case scenarios.

“How do you think he’ll take it?” Phil’s voice broke the silence and the other two turned to look at her. She was one of those quiet people to whom it was generally worth listening when they did actually speak.

Natalie shrugged. “I don’t know, Phil. It’s so soon for us, and I feel… I mean, it’s an accident, and it’s completely my fault.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not expecting him to marry me or anything, but I want him to be involved in any decisions. I hope he won’t be annoyed with me. At the very least, he needs to know.”

Phil smiled. “I get the impression he’s a pretty great person. I think he’s the best kind of guy to have beside you at a time like this, Nat.” Her hand reached for her wife’s and Natalie’s heart swelled a little.

“Yeah, he is. I just hope he can forgive me for being a prat, and making such a teenage mistake.”

Her daughter snorted. “Hardly! I’ve got a few patients who’ve done the same. Menopause babies are quite common. And give yourself a break, Mum. You and Dad hadn’t slept together in years, had you? And this all happened out of the blue. You weren’t exactly prepared for any of it.”

“Well, no, but I ought-”

“And Tom knows that.”

“Yes.”

“And he loves you?” Natalie blushed and nodded. “Then he isn’t going to be angry. He’s going to feel the same as I do, I reckon: a mixture of excitement and worry.”

An hour later she saw them off. A long hug on the doorstep ended with a few whispered words to Helen. “I’m so sorry, love. I wanted to focus on you again, after all that has happened. And now this, and-”

“Oh, shush, Mum! Life isn’t like that, is it? Anyway, we’ll deal with what comes, won’t we, all of us, together? Whatever, like we always have.”

Natalie looked at her lovely girl. She was tall, ash blonde, more beautiful than ever, and the kindest person she knew. _Tom’s right, of course. She is the woman I helped to make, and I am so proud and grateful for that._ Kissing her daughter’s cheek once more, she nodded. “Yes, darling, of course.”

____________________________________________

The buzz of her phone on the table by the bed woke Natalie the next morning. She hadn’t expected to sleep with so much on her mind, but exhaustion had taken over at a little after midnight. Tom’s message told her he and Bobby were setting off and they would be with her before lunch. She smiled, but a quiver of trepidation ran through her; this was not going to be an easy day.

Natalie rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling. It was getting light, and she could see the faint shadow of the holly tree dappling the off-white plaster. Superficially, everything was the same as yesterday, and in almost every meaningful way it was, but now she had knowledge which had changed her perception of all of it. Instinctively, her right hand went to the swell of her abdomen. How strange, how bizarre, at her age, to have this happen; how frightening and yet how exciting at the same time! She pictured the baby. She had been looking online last night. She knew she shouldn’t, but the urge seemed unstoppable. The embryo could be no more than four weeks gestation, so it would still be very tiny, but with organs, even though barely visible. “And you have a heartbeat already, don’t you, sweetie,” she whispered.

She knew it was not a good idea to start to think about him or her too much. There were too many reasons why not; so many dangers ahead, so many possible risks, so very many hurdles to climb, starting with today, and the conversation she had to have with Tom. But it was impossible not to - such was the nature of motherhood, at least for her. Did she know what she wanted to do? He was bound to ask her that first, being Tom, but what was her answer? _But if I’m already talking to the baby, then perhaps deep down I know…._

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, feeling energised and ready to face the day. She thought she knew what to say to him. She’d had a dream, and while the details had faded, the atmosphere lingered, the emotional colour of it still suffusing her. As she walked towards the bathroom she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror on the wardrobe door; the woman she saw standing there smiled back at her.

_______________________________________

The kitchen was a bit steamy and smelled deliciously of baking when Tom tapped gently on the window. His last text had gone unacknowledged, which didn’t worry him too much as it wasn’t a question, merely an update, but it was unlike Nat not be watching for him. He’d drawn up to her gate and got out: nothing. He’d opened it, driven the Land Rover in, parked in his usual spot, closed the gate behind, still no sign from the house. So, leaving a mildly hysterical Bobby in the car, he’d gone around the back to check she hadn't gone out and been delayed.

The sight that met him through the misted-up glass made him smile and filled his heart with love. A large pot was bubbling on the Aga - homemade soup, no doubt - and there was a mound of what looked like freshly-baked bread rolls on a cooling rack on the worktop beside it. He spotted Nat bending down by the oven, testing a cake with a thin tool like a needle. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed, and he couldn't remember her ever looking sexier. He waited until she pushed the cake tin back inside and closed the door before knocking again, a little more firmly this time.

Natalie turned her head and saw him standing there, handsome, his face reddened by the cold winter air, his glasses a bit misted over and his hair wet from the drizzle that had begun to fall. She ran and opened the inner porch door as he came through the outer one.

“Darling!” His broad smile dazzled her. “Come in! I didn’t hear you! Where’s Bobby?”

“In the car. I’ll get him in a minute. Come here.” His arms enveloped her, drew her against his body. His cheeks felt cold but the rest of him was still warm from the car. “You’ve been busy.” He looked down into her face, hungry for the sight of her.

“I felt the urge to bake you a cake.”

His smile widened. “Excellent.” His hand ghosted over her blonde hair, slightly messy from the steam. “You look like a sixties French screen goddess.” His lips met hers as she snorted her derision.

“What, you mean, _in_ their sixties…”

“Nat…”

She pushed him away, trying to hide the beginning of tears that were threatening. “Go and get poor Bobby. He must be going berserk!”

A few minutes later, Tom, his dog and their luggage were installed and the coffee and walnut sandwich cakes were cooling on the racks next to the rolls while Natalie mixed the butter cream. She was aware that her morning burst of optimistic energy and the sudden need to cook was, in part, displacement activity. The cake might even been interpreted as a bribe - “Here, have this nice treat, now, have this shocking news…” - but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Cooking for Tom seemed to be part of what she did, a fundamental of their relationship. It was what adults did - fed one another. _He does it for me, I do it for him, it’s what we do, it’s how we are together, and stop stalling woman, you can’t stand here beating butter and icing sugar in a bowl without telling him you’re carrying his baby…_

“Tom, there’s something I need to tell you.” He had just come back downstairs from taking his bag up, his eyes were bright, his cheeks still flushed and it hurt her to see his expression change to one of concern. “Darling, it’s OK, it’s not bad news or anything, at least, I hope you won’t...oh, I’m making a mess of this, as usual…”

He crossed the room and reached for her hands. “Nat, what’s going on?”

“There’s no way to say this except to just come straight out with it.” Natalie looked up into his blue eyes. “I got some very unexpected news from the doctor yesterday. She wanted to put me on a new medication, for the migraines, you know, and... and she had to double-check something first and…”

He squeezed her hands. “What, darling?”

“I’m pregnant, Tom.”

The silence hung, heavy, for what felt like a long moment to Natalie.

“Are you?”

“Yes. It’s 100% my fault, I was sure I was safe, but it seems I wasn’t.” He was staring at her. His eyes hadn’t left her face. His expression was unreadable. “I know it’s not what you signed up for, it’s way too soon, would be with anyone, of course, but-”

“Shhhh.”

“What?”

“Are you OK?”

“What?”

“Nat, are you OK?”

“Do you mean, health-wise?”

“Yes?”

“Right now, yes. But there are huge risks, having a baby at my age. To me, to the baby... “

“I’m sure. What do you want to do?” He was guiding her to a chair at the table. She sat and he sat down next to her, still holding her hands, tightly, in that way of his that made her feel safe and wanted, comforted and not alone.

She looked at him. She could see it, behind his calm expression: a scintillating excitement, a sort of simmering joy. “I wasn’t at all sure last night, but this morning… this morning, I think I want to go through with it, if I can. But that’s a massive ‘if’. Today, this weekend, I’d like you and me to agree a strategy, if we can. An approach. There will be lots of tests, and depending on the results of those, there may be more tests, and then we may be forced into some hard decisions.”

His arms snaked around her, pulling her close again, so that she was almost on his lap. “My darling, one thing is most important: your health. I don’t want you to do anything that jeopardises that, of course. And you must be the one to choose. But I want you to know I will be there with you, whatever you decide.”

Phil was right, Nat thought. She’s a wise one. “I’m so sorry, Tom.”

“Sorry? Whatever for?”

“For this mess.”

“Darling-”

“This should be at least partly joyful news for you, but it’s not. Not yet, anyway. And at best you’re shackled to an old-”

“Stop that now!” Tom had been unsure how to feel, but those last words had helped settle at least some of his swirling thoughts. “Look...” He allowed his gaze to leave her face for the first time since she told him as he scanned the room searching for the words he needed. “...I’m not... I suppose I need some time to process what you’ve told me. This is...it’s huge. So unexpected. But I know that I love you, Nat., and please no more talk of shackles or messes!” He kissed her mouth passionately, making her whole body scream for him. “Nor of being old. God woman, what you do to me - I can hardly stand straight.”

“Thomas!” Natalie was blushing, but his words had cheered her and made her feel younger, which was their purpose. “Lunch is almost ready.” She glanced at his face. “If you still feel like eating after my little bombshell.”

“Hehehe. Takes more than news of an unexpected pregnancy to put me off my grub, Nat, you should guess that.”

Natalie turned to stand up and reach for the soup bowls and spoons. “Yes, I should, shouldn’t I? Put these on the table, would you? I’ll just finish off this icing and let it chill while the cakes cool.”

“Smells yum.”

“Coffee and walnut.”

“Oh god.”

“Don’t you-”

“I adore it.”

“It was my Mum’s favourite.” Natalie closed her eyes for a second. “She’d have been so cross with me.”

“Do you think so?” He doubted that, if she was like her daughter or her granddaughter. “Have you told Helen?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I know it was your news, really, but-”

“It’s fine. Of course you should talk to her about it.”

“Thanks. Well, she’s a bit confused, a bit worried, a bit excited. Like me, I suppose.”

Tom stepped closer again. “And me.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “So, what happens next?”

“I have an appointment with the GP Monday morning. She wanted us to think about what we want to do and come back to her. We can discuss the next steps then.”

“Could I come along?”

“If you want to, yes, of course.”

“I’d like that. I want to know what’s happening, what we’re up against, what the dangers are.”

“Well, please wait until we’ve seen Julia. Don't go online. You’ll only scare yourself. She’s sensible and she can talk us through the tests and everything.”

_______________________________________

After lunch, they took Bobby for a walk through the village, then back by a circuitous route along the river bank and home again to a nice cup of tea and a slice of the now-assembled coffee and walnut cake. They sat, snuggled close on her sofa by the fire, warm and cosy. Natalie’s fears of tension between them were unfounded. There was anxiety, and there would be worry for months, no doubt about that, but Tom’s love and support she had without question.

Despite only having the news for a matter of hours, Tom felt strangely calm about his possible impending fatherhood. He accepted that it was foolish to get too excited at this stage, but nonetheless he began to make a few tentative plans. An idea which had been forming, a change in his life he had been toying with for a few months now had a firm purpose, a definite need to be carried through and fleshed out, and he began talking to Nat about it in general terms.

“I don’t think you should make any big decisions yet, Tom. It’s a bit soon.”

“I know, but I have been thinking about this for a while anyway.”

“Well, OK. But can you hold off for a bit, until we know a bit more? Until the future is a bit more certain?”

“Of course. It all takes time, anyway. And I’d like your help.”

“Oh?”

“Yes please.”

“I can’t claim any expertise.”

“I’d want your opinion, though, Nat.”

“OK. Of course, darling.” She squeezed his arm. She wondered if he was actually asking her something more, but that seemed presumptuous, so she pushed it aside. She had enough to handle without daydreaming about mansions in the countryside. Let’s get through the next month or two first. Raising her chin, she kissed his cheek just above the line of his beard. The skin was soft and fragrant there, and she loved the way the laughter lines by his eyes crinkled when her lips made contact. He sighed and leaned into her a little more and she felt Bobby’s head shift on her leg as he too made himself more comfortable. My new family, she thought. Again, her hand went to her belly unconsciously.

Tom saw the gesture and a small bud of joy burst open in his heart.

__________________________________________

The surgery in Kington was small and friendly, but that made it nigh-on impossible for Tom to slip anonymously in with Nat to see Dr Hawkins. The receptionist didn’t know him from Adam, but the young woman sitting opposite with a toddler and a baby in a pushchair clearly recognised him and giggled loudly while texting on her phone and taking not very clandestine pictures. He was still mildly put out when Natalie’s name was called and they went into the bright and welcoming consulting room. Julia Hawkins was a middle-aged, middle-sized woman with cropped greying curly hair. She shook his hand firmly and offered him the chair next to Natalie’s. “I’m very glad to see you here, Tom. I take it you’re here to support Natalie.”

“I am, yes.”

“We want to go ahead with the pregnancy, Julia, if we can.”

“OK, right. Well, we’ve already made a start on things, haven’t we? You’ve stopped all your meds and started on folic acid and iron, not that I think you need it that much. Your diet is so good it puts us all to shame.”

Natalie shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, remembering the coffee and walnut cake. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Now, I’ll send your name to the midwifery service, someone will get in touch pretty soon, and you’ll probably hear from the Obstetrics Department at Hereford pronto, too. Yours is a priority case, Natalie, I’m afraid, so I’m sure you’ll get an 8-week scan.”

“What’s that for?”

“Mostly for dating the pregnancy, Tom, but they can also do the first test for chromosomal abnormality then. That’s a blood test in conjunction with the scan. They can explain it to you better then, but basically, they look at the fluid in the baby’s neck, and that, in conjunction with markers in the maternal blood can give a probability factor. That will then decide whether or not they offer you the chance of another test - an amniocentesis or a CVS, where they get a sample from the foetus itself. Later in pregnancy they can do a scan to look for other abnormalities, such as spina bifida.” She swallowed and Tom saw her visibly steeling herself. “I have to tell you both that there is an increased rate of many birth defects in older mothers. And the risk of chromosomal abnormalities in mothers of your age has been shown to be as high as one in eight. They may well suggest the extra tests to you as a matter of course, given your age.”

“What about all the risks to Nat? What are those?”

Julia glanced at Natalie. She nodded back. “It’s OK, I want to know and I want him to know too.”

“Well, as regards her existing medical conditions, relatively few. There’s no reason why her ...why _your_ heart valve or AF should cause any problems or be affected, Natalie. All of that is very well controlled now. We will need to monitor your blood pressure closely because preeclampsia is more of a risk in older mothers, as are other complications of pregnancy such as gestational diabetes. Did you have blood pressure problems in your first pregnancy?” Natalie shook her head. “Good. You’re starting from a good place, healthy BMI, good fitness, that all goes in your favour, so it’s not all bad news. And there are some interesting statistics about the babies of older mums being more intelligent. But on the downside, there are also increased risks around the time of the birth, so it might be necessary to induce labour early, for example, or you may have to have an elective caesarean.”

“Oh.”

“The obstetrician will be able to talk you through all this in more detail, Natalie. I’ll do the referral now and you will probably hear from a midwife by the end of the week. I’m going to tell the cardio team at Hereford as well, because they need to know about your change of situation.”

“Yes, I see.”

“Now, as you’re here, can I just do your BP and do a quick blood and urine test?”

“What, already?”

“Just a pinprick test, for your blood sugar, but yes, now.” _Might as well get used to it, I suppose, this is how it’s going to be for the next eight months._ Tom, who had been holding her hand, pressed it a little more firmly before he released her to allow Julia to do the blood test and slip the blood pressure cuff on the other arm. “Those are fine, lovely. Right,” she said, getting up and reaching into the cupboard on the wall for a container, “You know the drill.”

“Must I?”

“Surely you remember this from last time? It’s not that long ago you had Helen, is it? Mid-stream...”

“No, I mean, yes... but already?” The doctor looked at Natalie kindly but sternly, so she shrugged and walked out, passing down the corridor to fill the specimen cup.

_____________________________________________

“Tom?”

“Mmm?”

“You awake?”

“No.”

“OK.”

“What is it, love?”

“I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He rested a large warm hand on her belly. “Whatever happens, however this goes, Nat… this is the most miraculous thing that’s ever happened to me.” His lips sought hers in the dark, and, finding them, stayed a while, caressing gently, teasing and nipping. He paused and sighed deeply. “I thought meeting you was special, that finding this wonderful woman somehow, after so much nonsense and madness... and discovering you wanted me too was more than I could have dreamed for.”

“Oh Tom.”

“But this? This is scary-good. And, my darling, we will get through it, you and me. Together.”

Natalie rolled over to lean the length of her body against his, her nose nudging at the skin of his shoulder, her big toe teasing the fine hairs on his shin. His warmth and strength seemed to flow into her, and she felt safe, loved, protected. It was nothing she had ever known in her marriage, and it was moving and thrilling and she wanted to shout and cry and yet… And yet she was aware of an unease deep down inside herself. This was not all sunshine and roses; there was so much to be concerned about and she knew she had not truly faced up to the reality of what even a good pregnancy and healthy baby could mean for them both.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is coming to terms with Natalie's surprising revelation. Natalie, for her part, is struggling to know how she feels about it...

_“As women age, they experience a decline in reproductive performance leading to menopause. This decline is tied to a decline in the number of ovarian follicles. Although about 1 million oocytes are present at birth in the human ovary, only about 500 (about 0.05%) of these ovulate [...]. The decline in ovarian reserve appears to occur at a constantly increasing rate with age,_ _and leads to nearly complete exhaustion of the reserve by about age 51. As ovarian reserve and fertility decline with age, there is also a parallel increase in pregnancy failure and meiotic errors resulting in chromosomally abnormal conceptions.”_

**_From Advanced Maternal Age, Wikipedia article_ **

The spring mornings started just that bit earlier, the daylight lasted longer, and there was distinct feel of new life coming as Tom walked Bobby on the Heath. There was still a nip in the air, but the sun had real warmth in it when it finally showed its head, reluctantly climbing up over or shining through the bud-encrusted branches.

New life. Yes, _perhaps_. It was too soon to allow himself to get excited. Much too soon to tell his friends and family. Nat had warned him of all the risks, the many risks, the threatening statistics even when the odds were still in their favour. A muted yip made him raise his eyes from the grass he’d been staring at blindly. It was just Bobby spotting that cocker-doodle, an old sparring-partner, in the distance. “Oh, ignore him, Bob. Let’s go.”

Tom strode out, pushing his body into action in order to harness his emotional energy as he so often did when he felt unable to understand his own feelings. He felt pulled in so many directions at once. All of this was both too soon and too late; Nat said the same. And she would not have chosen this, not at her age, nor in her state of health. She was being brave, he knew that, because she loved him too and she knew that he’d love… but he didn't want a child at any cost. Tom shook his head as he left the path that crossed the rolling greensward above the smoke and bustle of the capital and turned onto the harder pavement. He was almost running by now, and he nearly collided with someone as he entered the offices of _HCR._ “Hey, steady on!”

“Sorry! I wasn’t...sorry, Josie.”

His long-time friend and colleague gave him an appraising look. “Are you OK, Tom?”

“I’m all right. Didn't sleep well, noisy party at the pub, you know the sort of thing.”

“Oh, bummer. How’s the prep going for the film?”

“Good, good, actually. Are you coming or going, because I can show you, if…?”

She grinned and took the arm that wasn’t holding Bobby’s lead. “I’d love a look.”

_________________________________________

The room was filled with a grey light, the pale northern sky reflecting only some of the greenish glow of Natalie’s lawn into her office. She made a watercolour picture, sitting so still and pensive at her desk, her face illuminated by her computer screen. How long had she sat there, fingers and thumbs poised, rubbing over each other just above the keyboard? She was supposed to be writing, but instead her mind was wandering far and wide, drifting through space and time. Every tiny sensation in her body distracted her: was this light-headed feeling a side-effect of coming off her meds? Was there a problem? Was that tingle in her belly the start of a miscarriage?

And once she had talked herself down from these silly flights of hysterical fancy, Natalie found it hard to focus her mind back onto her work, when thoughts of her pregnancy loomed so large, overshadowing everything else. She knew she had been overly optimistic in her dealings with Tom last weekend; it was partly the dream she’d had, the details long lost now, but its sunny atmosphere and hopeful residue had clouded her judgement. But mainly, she knew, it was her own feelings taking the reins. She adored Tom _,_ and there was something so poetic, so unutterably romantic, so utterly improbable but absolutely real about them being together, and now her carrying his baby… But in the cold light of dawn, the more rational side of Natalie Banks, the side that had kept her alive and sane throughout the darkest times in her old life had begun to speak to her.

The first misgivings had been there all along. This was never going to be without risk, to her or to the child, and she knew that from the first instant. But it was when she rehearsed telling her best friend that the wider implications of even the sunniest scenario hit home. She was fifty-two. She’d be nearly fifty-three by full-term, meaning that she’d be over seventy by the time he or she was leaving school. _Imagine that..._

“That’s a helluva burden for a kid,” Natalie said, startling herself slightly by speaking the thought aloud. She knew all too well what it was like to have an older parent. Her own father was in his fifties when she was born and he had died when she was still young. The child would have Tom, of course, but even so, it was something to consider. Was Tom thinking about these things too, she wondered? _We speak so lightly on the phone, of my health, of Bobby and of work, and love… and so much is not said._

Natalie realised that several minutes had passed since she last glanced at the screen in front of her. She had not touched a key or even considered what to type in some time; the novel held no interest for her today. Nor had it the day before. She looked at her phone. She ought to start telling people, if only to explain her complete lack of progress, and she wished vehemently to be able to confide in Maxine, but… Max was the most practical, sensible, no-nonsense person in the world. If anyone was going to burst what was left of Nat’s romantic bubble, it would be her, and she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to lose it, not just yet.

____________________________________________

“Hi, darling. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, love. You?”

“Oh, you know, busy.”

“Bobby?”

“The usual. A busy morning pissing on everything, sniffing. Currently, he’s snuffling around where his balls used to be.”

“Still searching?”

“Hehehe...yes.” Natalie took a sip of her elderflower cordial. She longed for a glass of wine, Ached for one. “How’s the book going?”

She sighed. “It isn’t, really. I can’t concentrate.”

“No, I suppose not-”

“I may have to come clean with Vinnie and Gail. I won’t mess them around again, not after what happened before.”

“Well, yes, of course, but perhaps hold on another week or two?”

“Maybe. But, the thing is, I haven’t written a word all week, Tom. It’s not very professional, is it?”

“I’m not exactly at my most productive, either, darling. It’s completely understandable.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking, Nat. How would you feel about seeing a specialist in London? Please, don’t worry about cost of anything, but how do you feel about getting an expert opinion?”

“Oh, um, well… I don’t know… I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

“I’ve been doing some research, and there’s a clinic up here that specialises in older mums, and the obstetricians and midwives there have lots of experience. They have an excellent success rate and so on. They work with the Westminster Hospital.”

“Isn’t that where...?”

“Where I was born? Yes, yes, it is.”

Natalie thought for a moment. She hadn’t been entirely honest; she had suspected that Tom would make this kind of offer, but she’d thought it would come rather later on. “Well, I’ve got the community midwife coming tomorrow afternoon. Can I see what she says about the scans and the antenatal appointments in Hereford first? I can talk to her about it, if I take to her.”

“OK.”

“But it would mean a lot of travelling for me, to appointments and so on.”

“Yes, but I was going to talk to you about that too.”

She paused, and he listened to her steady breathing. He liked the sound, but he understood her hesitation. “Tom, I think we ought to take this one step at a time. We still don’t know what’s going to happen. You shouldn’t be rushing into anyth-”

“I’m not, Nat. Really, I’ve thought about this a lot, even before last weekend and it’s not just a reaction to that. It really isn’t.”

Her heart was beating faster now. So was his. This conversation felt more portentous even than the first one about the pregnancy. “Well, all right, if you say so. We can talk about it properly at the weekend.”

“You’ll call me after the midwife’s been tomorrow? Tell me what she says?”

“If you want, yes, of course.”

“And I’ll call this clinic, shall I? Find out how to get us in, if that’s what you decide you want to do?”

“Yes, I suppose it won’t hurt.” Natalie glanced up at the window and looked out at the fading light on the grey trunks of the apple trees, remembering the weekend, and Tom’s calm reaction to her shocking news. “Thank you, darling.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

“Hehehe. That doesn’t really take all that much effort on my part, now, does it?”

“No, I suppose not. But under the circumstances, some men might not have stayed quite so...stoical.”

“Is that what I’m doing? I’ve been characterising it in my own head as being fairly adult and only a bit interfering.”

“Oh, you haven’t interfered at all!”

“Not yet, perhaps.”

“So you have plans to?”

“I meant with the private clinic thing.”

“Oh, but that’s understandable. I was wondering myself, but … Well, anyway, I think you’ve been amazing, but that’s what I expected, frankly. You are just... so-”

“Shhhh.”

“But you are.”

“Nat, _I love you._ I want this to work, I want us to work.”

________________________________________________

Natalie stood in the conservatory waiting. From there she would be able to see when the midwife - _Donna, I have to call her Donna, apparently -_ arrived. She felt nervous, young again, as she had when she’d waited for the community midwife to come for the first time when she was expecting Helen: that woman had been older, single and childless and the most unsympathetic person imaginable. In retrospect, Natalie couldn’t understand what had drawn her to a caring profession; she spent most of that first visit complaining about the fact that Nat’s due date was when she was booked on annual leave, as if that was a deliberate snub…

And here she was waiting again, and with some trepidation. These kinds of relationships are important to an expectant mother; as it turned out, the alternative midwife who actually visited after Helen’s birth was delightful, and Nat felt she’d lucked out that time. But this was a very different situation. And the NHS had changed too, in thirty years. She wasn’t entirely sure how these things worked anymore, and even, given her special status, whether she’d get much in the way of midwifery care at all. A flash of winter sunshine off a car roof alerted her, and she walked round to the back porch to welcome her visitor.

“Mrs Banks?”

“Natalie, please. You must be Donna.”

The midwife was standing behind her small Ford, getting a bag out of the hatch. She was petite, with close-cropped red curls and an open, smiling face. She looked smart in her navy tunic and trousers, and her pleasant Scots accent instantly endeared her to Natalie, along with her kind green eyes. “That’s me. Beautiful day, isn't it?”

“It is, and so welcome after the dingy weather we’ve been having. Come on round, I usually use the back door.” Donna followed her along the gravelled path to the rear porch and into the welcoming warmth of the kitchen. “Can I interest you in a cup of tea or coffee, or are you awash with the stuff already?”

“Actually, a cup would be lovely, thanks.”

“Tea or coffee?”

“Whatever you’re making.”

“Actually, that was one thing I wanted to ask you, am I supposed to eschew coffee? I still have one a day, just a mug of filter in the morning. Otherwise it’s strictly tea for me now.” She pulled a mock sad face.

Donna grinned in response as she sat down at the well-worn scrubbed-pine table. “The research varies. I don’t think one cup a day will do any harm. Like everything, moderate amounts are rarely a problem. Many women go off coffee in the first trimester, mind you.”

“Yes, I did with my daughter. I went off practically everything, come to think of it.” She turned to the fridge to get the water filter. “Tea it is then.”

“Ooh, lovely.” As Natalie made the tea and dispensed shortbread biscuits, Donna laid out all of her kit on the table. “Well, Mrs Banks, this-”

“Please, not ‘Missus’. I’m not married anymore and Banks is my own name. Mizz, if you must, but I’d prefer Natalie, or Nat!”

“Sorry, OK, Nat, this is just a ‘getting to know you’ visit really, but of course, as I’m sure Dr Hawkins has told you, yours is not a run-of-the-mill sort of a case, so the medics will be more involved.”

“Yes. Actually, that was one thing I wanted to ask you about. My, um…” _What do I call him? Boyfriend? I can’t say ‘lover’..._ “The father would like me to see a private specialist in London.”

“Oh, I see…”

“I’m still thinking about it, though. I’d like to talk to the OB’s here first, I think, and you, but, say I did decide to do that, would I need to get a referral from the hospital, or Dr Hawkins, or…?”

“If you decide to go for private treatment, you just have to request your records be sent to the treating clinic or hospital or whoever. It’s pretty straightforward.” Donna was looking at Natalie carefully. “Would you be moving to London, in that event? I wouldn’t advise a lot of travelling, not given your medical condition and the pregnancy.”

“Well, that’s all in the mix at the moment, you might say.” She smiled. “All up for debate. I’m trying to take it all one step at a time.”

“Very sensible approach.” She opened her notebook and reached for a small plastic folder containing sheets of card. “This are your hand-held notes. You keep these and take them to every appointment with whichever practitioner.” She passed a few leaflets across the table. “I’m pretty sure you know all this already, but these tell you about nutrition and exercise and all that. Now,” she said, reaching for her phone, we need to book you in for your dating scan, and then, once we confirm your dates we can book you in for delivery.”

“OK. What are the consultants like at Hereford?”

“Oh, all of them are OK. No nasty ones.” She winked.

“Any women?”

“A couple. Would you prefer a woman?”

“Ideally, yes.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because Julia seems to have referred you to Mrs Raja. She’s a canny lass.”

“Oh, OK... “

Donna swigged down the last of her tea and stood up. “Right, now I need to do a few bits and bobs. Can I measure your height, first of all, please?” They went through the routine matters, Donna noting Nat’s weight, calculating her BMI, taking her blood pressure and a quick urine dip, all of which were fine. When they sat down again, Donna got out her phone and looked at the screen. “They can do your scan in three weeks from now. Can you do the fifteenth, at ten in the morning? Or ten-thirty-five?”

Natalie stood and reached for her own phone, which she’d left on the worktop. “What day of the week is that?”

“It’s a Monday.”

“Um, yes… it should be OK. Ten-thirty-five might be better... I expect Tom would like to be there, I’ll just message him, hang on.”

“He lives in London, then, the father?”

Natalie nodded, distractedly. “Yes, that’s… oh! He’s replied already… must have been... Yes, that’s fine, he’s free then, or can be.” She looked up, smiling lopsidedly. “He’s keen to be involved.”

Donna suddenly looked more business-like. “Now, Natalie, I can make you an appointment to see Mrs Raja at the same time, if you’d like me to. It would save you an extra trip and be easier…? She has a clinic on Monday mornings and there are still a few slots open. I think that it would be sensible for you to see her as soon as possible. Even if you do decide to go down the private route, you’ll need to think about having the screening tests sooner rather than later. She can talk you through them in detail, as well as everything else you need to think about.”

Natalie nodded. “Yes, thank you, please do that.” She shrugged. “I’m sure I must seem a bit vague or silly to you-”

“Not at all.”

“Well, I do to me! I’m normally quite a sensible person, but my life has become rather strange just lately, and this baby…” She stood up and picked up the tea mugs and plates and put them by the dishwasher. “This is just the latest unexpected thing that’s happened to me recently. Six months ago, I had a very dull existence. Now… now I don’t have any idea what my life will be like in a year’s time.”

Donna glanced up as she tapped her screen. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your brain is being bathed in a lot of hormones, for one thing.”

“That’s true! I’d forgotten that aspect.”

“OK, right, you’re booked in to see Mrs Raja at eleven-thirty. That gives you time for a much-needed pee and a cup of tea after your scan.”

“Ah yes, that I _do_ remember.”

“And she’ll have the preliminary result from the radiologist so she can talk to you about the first round of screening tests. I expect, given your age, that-”

“She’ll recommend doing them all?” Donna nodded. “I think I’d be having them, anyway. The statistics being what they are.”

“Do you mind me asking, how old is the father?”

Natalie looked down, her cheeks reddening. “He’s thirty-seven.”

“Oh, OK, well that’s good.” When Nat dared a glance up, Donna’s face was professionally neutral. “That bodes well for the baby, I mean. Younger sperm and all that.” _I have to get over myself, for fuck’s sake. Other people don’t care about my sex life. Well, these people don’t, anyway…_ “Right, is there anything else you want to ask me today?”

“I don’t think so. Do I need to see you or Dr Hawkins again before I go to the hospital?”

“Only if you’re worried about anything. I’ll see you at the surgery the week after that. We can make the appointment now, if you like.” They set a time to see each other in the regular antenatal clinic at Natalie’s GP surgery. “Here’s my card, tuck it in that pocket in your notes, that’s it. You can ring me if you need me, or text if it’s not urgent. If I’m off duty when you ring, you’ll get transferred automatically to the duty midwife, but that’s OK, none of us bite.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll get confirmation of your appointments through the post in the next week or so. They’ll remind you about having a full bladder for the scan. It’s so they can find the uterus easier.”

“Yes, I remember… but not the best thing at my age! Oh well.”

_____________________________________________

“So, what was she like?”

“Donna?”

“Is that her name?”

“Yeah. She’s charming. Small, red-haired, Scottish. From the western side, I’d say. Not that I asked.”

“Oh, excellent. What did she say?”

“Nothing new, really. Did the usual tests, went through the appointment routine with me, the scans and so on. She’s booked me in to see the consultant after the scan, by the way, the same morning. Mrs Raja.”

“Oh, OK.”

“She’s nice, apparently. I looked her up. Very pretty. And young. They’re all impossibly young.”

“Shhhh. How are you feeling tonight, darling?”

“I’m OK. A bit tired, but that’s to be expected.”

“Are you sleeping OK?”

“Not really. Are you?”

He chuckled softly. “No, not really. Can we come up and see you?”

“Please.”

“Tomorrow be OK? I have a meeting in the morning, but I could leave just after that.”

“Darling, that would be just…”

“I miss you, when I turn over in bed. When I turn my head, when I look round in the kitchen… I know it’s not rational, but I worry about you, alone, and so far away.”

“I’m all right, Tom, I have been alone here for a long time now.”

“I know, I said it’s not rational. Maybe…” He tried to find the words, to get his feelings into line so they could be expressed in language. “I think it’s more about how I feel, rather than what you need, Nat. I’ve been in relationships before where I wanted to be with the person all the time, but I was also glad of a break sometimes. But with you, I just, I feel as if I can’t quite function properly without you beside me. I think about you all the time. I did that, even before you told me about the baby. Fuck, to tell the truth, I did it even before I visited Holly Cottage.”

“Oh, Tom…”

“I’m sorry, I must sound a bit crazed.”

“No, it’s lovely. It’s rather romantic, actually.”

“So, it’s OK if your needy BF and his stinky dog turn up again tomorrow night then?”

“Of course. What would you like for dinner?”

“Anything is fine.”

“Steak?”

“From that butcher? God, yes.”

“I may not do chips, though. I’m trying to keep my diet healthy.”

“Me too.”

“OK, jacket potatoes, then, and salad. God, we sound like an old married couple, talking about what to have for dinner.”

“I love it, though. It’s been forever since I had that….”

“Me too.” There was a long, comfortable silence on the line. They could hear each other breathing, and there was no need to speak. Tom thought about how he had bared his soul and wondered if he’d gone too far, but decided after some pondering that it was the simple truth, and that was always the best choice. He heard Nat take a deep breath and prepare to say something. “I miss you too, Tom. I sleep so much better when you’re here.”

“That settles it, then. See you tomorrow, my darling.”


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie tells her oldest friend her news, and Max isn't exactly thrilled. Tom arrives at Holly Cottage ahead of the first scan

_“Although NIPT for Down's syndrome is not diagnostic, large scale studies show that the test has a detection rate of over 99%. So it is currently a very sensitive screening test for Down's syndrome, and can also look for Edwards' and Patau's syndrome..[...]NIPT is not yet available on the NHS except in a small number of hospitals as part of either a research study or pilot project.[...] NIPT can be performed from 10 weeks of pregnancy. Before this it is difficult to collect enough cell-free DNA (cfDNA) from the blood sample.’ **from Non-Invasive Prenatal testing, arc-uk.org forum.**_

“Nat.”

“Mmm?”

“Are you listening to me _at all?”_

“Yes, of course I am.”

“I don’t think you are, you know. I just suggested that Tom play Trump in a biopic and you agreed.”

“Oh. Sorry, Max.”

Natalie’s best friend put down her coffee mug and looked across the table. She had driven over to Lower Hergest on her day off, which was a little unusual as since Natalie’s recovery from her heart surgery the old friends had tended to meet up in Leominster for their fairly regular get-togethers, that pleasant small town being more of a halfway point for them. But this time Nat had asked her to come to Holly Cottage, so she had. Now she was there, and there was definitely something going on. Something massive. _MaHOOSIVE_.

“OK, out with it.”

Natalie glanced at Maxine’s resolute face and pressed her lips together. ‘Twas ever thus: she could never keep much from her oldest friend, and such a big thing as this was bound to prove impossible to conceal. “I’m pregnant.” Not without some satisfaction, she noted a degree of astonishment on Max’s face.

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m only about nine or ten weeks gone, that’s all, but definitely preggers.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

Natalie suppressed a smile, arching an eyebrow instead. “Surely I don’t need to tell you _that,_ Maxine.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Nat, you know what I mean. I thought you’d had the menopause.”

“Started it, yes, but apparently, the odd egg was still lurking, waiting for the right sperm to wander by.”

“Poetic even. But you and he hadn’t been…”

Natalie winced. “Using any contraception? No. Stupid, I know, but it had been six months since my last period. According to Julia, and Helen actually, I’m not the first woman to get caught out like that. It’s unusual at my great age, though.”

Maxine swallowed a big mouthful of her coffee. “Bloody hell. So, what are you going to do? Have you told Tom yet?”

“Of course I have. We’re waiting for the first scan, then the screening tests. At the moment, we, er… I think I want to go ahead.”

Maxine put her mug down carefully and looked Natalie square in the eyes. “Are you _insane_?”

“Max, what are-”

“Nat, you’re over fifty! Do you seriously want a snotty, shitty, screaming baby turning your life upside down? All of that again, but _now_? Nappies, laundry all the time, tripping over the pushchair, piles of toys everywhere…? Potty-training, school uniform, tantrums, getting into your bed in the middle of the night, the school run, _god help you_ , Brownies, Guides or Beavers and Cubs or whatever, ballet or football or cricket or ponies…? And that is just the annoying part, as I assume you can afford to have help now. The worrying, I don’t have to explain that one to you, what if the child has special needs… the worrying, Natalie! You have done all of this already, why put yourself through it again?” She paused as her eyes widened further. “Jesus H Christ, Nat!”

“What now?”

“I just had a vision of you, five years from now, at the school gates… Nat, what the fuck are you going to talk to those other parents about? You’ll be the same age as _their_ parents! How’s that going to make your kid feel? Let alone you... Have you actually thought this through _at all,_ Natalie? You have, I know you, I know you have _._ ”

Natalie pouted. “I knew you’d be like this.”

“Like what? Realistic? Come on, Nat, this is utter madness. You can’t, anyway, not with your heart condition, surely?”

“Actually, the doc says I can, no problem there. But the risks of abnormalities are greater at my age, yes, of course. And of complications in the pregnancy.”

Max rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Oh brilliant. Come on, love, have you _really_ thought about what it would be like, even just going through a pregnancy at our age, let alone having a baby, really? _And_ you won’t be getting younger. How old will you be when he or she is going to high school? Knocking on seventy?”

“No, not _that_ old, Maxine...” Nat gritted her teeth. Max was asking all the questions she had already asked herself, of course. Just as she anticipated. “And it won’t just be me. There’s Tom.”

“Well yes, maybe, but even so. Is he going to be there all the time?” Natalie shrugged, and Max smiled grimly in response. “Hmm. Even him _maybe_ being there does not correct for all the things we just talked about.”

“Max, hang on, that’s not fair! He’s only known, well, that is, _we’ve_ only known for a matter of days. We’re still getting used to the idea, and we’re only just starting to talk about what’s going to happen. I simply meant that at this stage I don't know who will be where.” A chilly silence settled over the normally warm space. Maxine stared blindly at her coffee; Natalie closed her eyes, took a few slow breaths and tried to calm her racing heart. She glanced up at her companion. She was right of course: the prospect of all the work, worry, the simple day-to-day running around that a child would bring was daunting, as was the thought of such late motherhood, with all the accompanying emotional and social difficulties for both her and the child. And that was without considering the possibility of a baby with additional needs. But there was another side to the argument, as with everything in life. “You’re not taking the positives into account, Max.”

“The positives are the easy part. And positives? You already have a daughter, Nat. A beautiful grown-up daughter. What possible positives can there be in this situation?”

“The joys of parenthood.” Max rolled her eyes and snorted. “Oh come on, I know you have them, even now.”

“Maybe.” Maxine was messily divorced, and had brought up her two lively teenage boys more or less alone. She’d been through the mill but it hadn't all been terrible.

“And the thing is, well, it’s happened. You know me. I wouldn’t press ahead regardless, so let’s wait and see what the next few weeks bring.”

Maxine eyed her. “And how does Tom feel about that? He is also into the ‘positives’?”

“We haven’t got into specifics yet.”

“You need to, sharpish! What if the first test is indicative, Nat? You can’t hang about, you know, if…”

“I know!”

Natalie stood up and busied herself at the sink to hide the fact that she was fighting back tears. So far, she hadn't allowed herself to fully examine this possible scenario. Whenever she’d got close, she’d pushed it away, paused the video, as it were, stopping the action at the door of the consulting room. But Max was right, she had to confront it, and more importantly, she and Tom needed to have had the conversation before they went to the hospital next week.

_________________________________________

“Are you sure about this, darling?”

Natalie nodded, smiling in the bright morning sunshine as she paused to look out across the gently rolling landscape towards the Cambrian Mountains and the beautiful Welsh countryside. “Yes. It would be criminal not to take advantage of a day like this.”

“I suppose, if we take it easy… unlike that idiot.” Tom grinned as Bobby scampered ahead of them, up the grassy path towards the crest of Hergest Ridge. The slope wasn’t too steep, and as long as they took frequent rests it wouldn’t do any harm. Nat wasn’t too out of breath and she seemed happier than he’d seen her since she told him the news. “It is gorgeous up here, darling.”

“Isn’t it? Always clears my head, this view. It can’t have changed much since Offa and his lot trod this path.” She trudged on, leaving him momentarily behind as he stood following her gaze. She continued talking over her shoulder. “Puts things into perspective, doesn't it?”

Tom lengthened his stride to catch her up again. “Things?”

“Our insignificance, in the great scheme of life.”

A group of walkers appeared coming towards them over a rise some hundred metres ahead and Tom called Bobby to heel, clipping his lead on quickly to prevent any incidents. He didn’t want to let Nat’s statement lie unchallenged, however. “But each of us is no more or less insignificant than any other, surely.”

“No, I just meant the human race generally.” Natalie grinned cheerfully. “I find it a comfort to think these hills will still be here long after we’re all turned to dust.” The crowd passed by in a clatter of boots and alpine poles, murmured good mornings and a couple of double-takes at Tom which made Natalie smile. She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “It’s the beard and the hair, they’re confusing.”

“I know.”

“It only half works, though.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Yes. Your dazzling charisma and beauty shines through, even when you try to look like a homeless person.”

Tom took a playful swipe at her, which made Bobby jump up and want to join in the game. “Hey! Only such an accomplished writer could say something lovely and yet somehow deeply insulting simultaneously...” Natalie broke into a trot to escape his reach and Tom let her get ahead, pausing to release the now barking and wriggling spaniel, and then easily caught her up in a few powerful strides. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and gently lifted her up, burying his face in her hair and speaking in a low growl. “Got any spare change, lady? ‘Nuff for a cup o’ coffee?”

“Unhand me, you filthy scoundrel!” Natalie was laughing so much she could hardly speak.

Ten minutes later at the summit of Hergest Ridge they found a convenient rock to rest on and took a break. From their vantage point they could see many miles in all directions: the Black Mountains were blue and cloud-like to the west, and a patchwork-quilt of brown and green English fields lay to their east. The only sound up there was the wind and the occasional bleat of a sheep. Bobby scurried around at first, sniffing at the low scrub and rocks, and firmly over-planted previous visitors’ scents with his own before settling down for a snooze at their feet.

Tom slid his hand into Natalie’s as she leaned against his shoulder. He was firm to rest against, and the swell of his muscle made a comfortable cushion for her head. She sighed and he turned to look down at her. “Are you alright, darling? Not to tired out?”

“I’m fine. Just enjoying the moment.”

“It is lovely here.”

“It is. I think the Marches get a bit forgotten a lot of the time, because they don't get as much press as the Lakes, or Snowdonia or Scotland. But I don't mind that, because it means I get to have them to myself mostly.”

“You don’t mind sharing them with me?”

“ _Well…_ ”

Tom nudged her gently.”Oi!”

“No, not at all. I’m pleased to be able to show you something new.” She looked at him sideways. “Makes a change for the boot to be on the other foot.” He chuckled darkly. When their eyes met, there was a moment of seriousness. They both knew there were things to be discussed between them; hard things, painful things, but for now, they were content to stay where they were, soaking up the beauty of the landscape. A dog barked, far away in the distance somewhere and Bobby growled almost inaudibly, low and menacing.

“Oh, shush, you. Like you’d do anything anyway, you great dollop.” By now, the chocolate brown spaniel was on his feet, scanning the hillsides in all directions, no doubt searching for the author of the sound. “What exactly are you planning, Bob? A full-frontal attack? I doubt it, somehow…”

“Shall we move on then?”

“Probably best, before the Mighty Hunter here has a breakdown.” Tom rolled his eyes as Bobby bristled and adjusted his stance at the sound of more far-off barks. “Oh, give it a rest, you steaming great nit. That dog’s probably ten miles away.”

Natalie glanced at her watch: it was probably time to turn for home if they were to get back in time for lunch, so she steered them that way, taking the path that led back down the side of the ridge towards the village where her cottage lay in the lee of the hill. Even though it was mostly downhill, it was still an hour before they were back indoors and warming their cold hands on the Aga, listening to the sound of Bobby as he had a noisy (and somewhat messy) drink of water in the corner of the kitchen.

“I’ll just pop upstairs and change out of these trousers. The soup’s already made; just needs warming.”

“I can do that while you’re changing. Get it started for you, at least.”

“OK, thanks.” _I have to get used to being with someone who helps. Not someone who just sits there, inert._ “It’s in the fridge, third shelf down in the big plastic container…? Just put it in one of those pans. You know how the Aga hob-”

“Yes, Madam, it’s all under control.” He looked over his shoulder, dazzled her with one of his smiles and she felt her heart miss a beat. Natalie went upstairs, walked into her room, noting with pleasure and a little tingle in her stomach the sight of Tom’s bag in the corner, and sat down on the bed to remove her walking trousers. They were spattered with mud so she rolled them up ready to put in the laundry basket, and pulled on her jeans once she had changed her socks as well. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen, the sound of a saucepan being placed on the cooker, his voice as he spoke to Bobby. She smiled and caught sight of herself in the mirror on the wardrobe door. _Yeah, enjoy it while you can, Nat. You have to get into it this afternoon. Can’t keep putting it off._

No longer smiling, she stood, pulled up her jeans (which still fit her already very slightly larger belly thanks to their stretch) and left the room.

__________________________________________

“So, we might have some idea by this time tomorrow.”

“Possibly, although most likely we’ll have to wait at least a few days. Helen says the most accurate test is the NIPT. ”

“That’s the one you can’t get on the NHS?”

“Yes.”

“They offer it at the clinic I mentioned.”

“Yes, I saw on the website.”

“You know, darling, I really would like you to consider going there. For that test at least, to begin with.”

“Yes, that’s something I’ve… Yes, and I am considering it, carefully, Tom… I am. It’s just that…”

“What, darling?”

She took a deep breath, but stared at the rug, unable to look at him. “I’m scared.”

“Oh Nat. I understand that, but you-”

She shook her head. She had to keep going now she started, finish it, tell him everything. “Everything feels so out of my control. I’m afraid to look too far ahead, to make any plans. Sometimes I’m afraid to breathe… I’m afraid to want the baby too much. I’m frightened about tomorrow, but it’s more than just that. It’s the whole thing.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“I don’t… No! No. I’m not. Not really… it’s not that, it’s more that I’m… oh, I don’t know.”

“Nat, what is it?” Tom reached for her, beside him on the sofa in her snug little sitting room. The light was fading outside, making the room seems cosier, but somehow Natalie found it ominous today. “Please, tell me.”

“It hit me the other day, when the midwife came, although I’d say that was just the moment of clarity… I told her that so much had happened in the last six months that my life had become unrecognisable.” She saw his look of concern. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, necessarily, but it’s all been incredibly fast. I am only just getting used to the idea of you and I, and then this happens.”

Tom smiled ruefully. “I know what you mean.”

“But imagine, if you can, that I’ve been out here alone, just tapping away quietly, not going far, having my dull little routine and then BAM! Suddenly, there you are, bringing such joy, and excitement and love and happiness… It’s wonderful, but it’s also dizzying. And not so long ago I was feeling so unwell, too…”

“Nat, I-“

“Please, darling, let me finish, or I don’t think I’ll get through it.” Tom raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s been wonderful, it still is, but it has needed a massive adjustment, and when you get older, that gets harder.” She took his left hand in both of hers, caressed it, her palms pressing, brought it up to her lips to plant a kiss on the tips of his fingers. “A baby is a whole new level of scary, Tom. A whole new level of adjustment.” She turned to face him. “Even if everything is 100% fine with both of us.”

He nodded. “I do understand that, Nat. At least, I’m doing my very best to.”

“I know, darling, but as I was trying to say, that’s even if everything goes… if nobody tells us anything worrying tomorrow, or in the coming weeks.” She squeezed his hand, which she had hung onto. “We need to talk about what we are going to do, if the worst should happen.”

“I know.”

“Have you thought about it?” He nodded. “Good. I have, but then, I had to before, although the risks were minuscule then…”

“What is your feeling, if the tests were to be positive for something?”

Suddenly, Natalie was very aware of how close they were. Of every place they were touching: her head against his shoulder, their arms entwined, both of her hands around his left one; their hips nudging one another, thighs leant against each other, Bobby curled on Natalie’s foot. Tom’s warmth flooded her, his love and strength seemed to flow through her and she feared that what she was about to say might change that, but this was not the time for anything but total honesty: the truth, the whole truth, etc, etc…

“It would depend, Tom, on what the prognosis was for the child. At the moment, I feel, and this has always been my stance, that I will not go through with a pregnancy if that baby will have no quality of life, is going to be in pain, or suffering in any way. I could not live with that.”

“But based on what I read, that is not likely, is it?” Tom’s face was distraught.

“Not very, no, darling, but I’m talking in general principles.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

“But a Down’s baby, which isn’t outside… I don’t honestly know how I feel about that at the moment. I have known many Down’s children and adults, and… What do...how do you feel about it? This should not just be my decision, you know. Let’s be realistic. I will be ‘elderly’ by the time this child is a young adult. If we’re talking about a child with special needs, there will be a time when it will be on you, Tom. All of it.”

Tom took a deep breath, but did not speak immediately. He knew he was worrying her by hesitating, but he wanted to weigh his words carefully. He had been thinking about little but this for several days, ever since she told him that they would be seeing the consultant on Monday. Natalie had spoken about adjustment; he had been through one too, and was still going through it. “I don’t know, Nat, is the honest answer. I’ve been debating it in my head, but I can’t come to a conclusion, not yet.”

“Oh.”

“I think, perhaps, once things have progressed, once we actually know whether or not…” He sighed and screwed up his face in frustration. “I find it impossible to know how I feel in the abstract. The whole thing seems so unreal, still…”

“I know what you mean.” She squeezed his hand even tighter. “Perhaps, after the scan, he or she will be a bit more there for both of us.”

It was even darker now, and as they sat in silent contemplation of what the next day might bring, Tom stretched over to switch on the lamp beside him. He took a deep breath and leaned back into the cushions. “I do want you to know that whatever we decide, I’ll be right beside you. All the way, whatever. I want to help, support you, be there for both of you.” Natalie squeezed again, unable to speak. “I know that this has to be mostly your decision, because it is you that will be bearing the burden while pregnant, but I will do everything I can.” He shifted on the sofa so he could see her face clearly. “I want you to come and live with me, Nat. Anyway, regardless of what happens in the next few weeks.” He saw her eyes widen and her mouth begin to open. “Please, think about it, because I don’t think I can bear to carry on being so far away from you, not when we could be together.”

“Tom, I-“

“Don’t answer now, let’s get through all these initial tests and stuff first, but please, think about it. When you can. Because especially if there are to be three of us, then…” He let the thought hang in the air between them.

Natalie looked at his beautiful face, his eyebrows raised in the unspoken question, the hope in his sky-blue eyes. She had known he would ask this, or at least she had suspected it, with his talk of house-hunting in Hampshire and needing her advice. And if she did have the baby, then it made perfect sense, of course. It would probably be great for her. But would it be the best thing for Tom? Was it up to her to decide that?

The fire crackled and she snuggled against the firmness of his side. Tom pulled her against him, grunting with satisfaction as she settled, filling the spaces. Those questions were for another day. Tonight they needed to prepare emotionally for tomorrow, for the scan, for the blood tests and the meeting with Dr Raja. After that, they might both have a clearer idea of their future.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat has her dating scan, and afterwards she and Tom decide to share their news a little more widely.

**_TRISOMY 21 (NONDISJUNCTION)_ ** _Down syndrome is usually caused by an error in cell division called “nondisjunction.” Nondisjunction results in an embryo with three copies of chromosome 21 instead of the usual two. Prior to or at conception, a pair of 21st chromosomes in either the sperm or the egg fails to separate. As the embryo develops, the extra chromosome is replicated in every cell of the body. This type of Down syndrome, which accounts for 95% of cases, is called trisomy 21._

**_MOSAICISM_ ** _Mosaicism (or mosaic Down syndrome) is diagnosed when there is a mixture of two types of cells, some containing the usual 46 chromosomes and some containing 47. Those cells with 47 chromosomes contain an extra chromosome 21. Mosaicism is the least common form of Down syndrome and accounts for only about 1% of all cases of Down syndrome. Research has indicated that individuals with mosaic Down syndrome may have fewer characteristics of Down syndrome than those with other types of Down syndrome. However, broad generalizations are not possible due to the wide range of abilities people with Down syndrome possess._

**_www.ndss.org/about-down-syndrome/down-syndrome_ **

They didn’t do dating scans in Leicester thirty years ago, so Nat wasn’t sure what to expect of one at this early stage of pregnancy, but she did note that the room in which they did it seemed much the same as the one she recalled. Bland, windowless, bare-walled, save a few information posters and the obligatory fire safety notices; not that the decor mattered, as the lighting was soon dimmed once she was ensconced on the couch and the machinery to her left hummed into life. She had deliberately avoided looking online, not wanting to go in with too many preconceived ideas of what she would see on the screen. In fact, even when the moment came she hardly dared to look, preferring instead to direct her gaze the other way and watch Tom’s face. When it lit up and he gasped, smiling broadly, she risked a glance. Instead of an indistinct blob, there was a recognisably human-baby shape, albeit in grainy and ghostly monochrome.

“Well, hello there,” Tom said softly, and she had to stifle a sob. He squeezed her hand and she returned the gesture. There was their baby; _our son_ , she thought to herself. She was sure he was a boy, she’d sensed that much quite clearly in a dream. Tom was rapt. His eyes were full of tears but he could not look away as the sonographer recorded all the necessary measurements and images. The parents got their own pictures to keep as well: one tiny arm raised in salute, the perfect shot for friends and family to coo over.

“It definitely looks like a ten week gestation,” the sonographer said as she handed Nat some paper towels to wipe away the gel from her belly. Tom took over, gently cleaning her, and she caught the look the woman gave him. Clearly it wasn’t a common reaction. “Mrs Raja will be able to tell you more, but of course, we can’t see very much at this stage. The placenta looks healthy and it’s in a nice high position, which is excellent news. She can advise you on what your next move should be regarding screening and so on.”

“Yes, thanks.” Nat sat up gingerly. She was desperate for the toilet. “ _Oh my_ … My eyeballs are floating….”

The woman chuckled; that was pretty standard. “Third door on the left.”

Tom gathered up all her things while Nat dressed as fast as she could and took off for the exit. When she emerged much relieved, they headed for the hospital concourse where the coffee shop and other commercial outlets were to be found. It was bustling with the usual mixture of humanity, and it pleased Natalie to be able to enjoy it for once. In her last few visits to Hereford County Hospital she had been unable to leave the ward. Time seemed to slow again as their appointment drew near, but finally they were able to set off back to the Maternity Department and Mrs Raja’s clinic.

“If you haven’t heard from us about your blood results by the end of the week, then that’s most likely good news.” The petite woman smiled sweetly from her chair, which seemed several sizes too large for her. The harsh overhead lighting in the room didn’t detract from the shine of her ebony hair, nor reduce how beautifully the rich red of her sweater complemented her brown skin.

“I see,” said Tom, cautiously.

“If the result indicates a chance of abnormality in the higher range, that is higher than one in one hundred and fifty, then you will be told within three working days. If it’s lower, then it will normally be within two weeks.”

“Oh.” That’s one lottery I don't want to win, thought Nat.

“But this test is only indicative, and a high score just means we would recommend a screening test, which, in all honestly, I’m going to anyway, regardless. For a mother of your vintage, Natalie.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“But we can get onto that in a few minutes, if that’s alright with you both. The other things we need to talk about today are your antenatal care and your delivery. Now,” she said, turning to look at the computer screen on her desk where the scan images were displayed, “the pregnancy looks nice and healthy, in so far as we can see. Your placenta is nicely positioned, your baby seems the right size for dates, and has all the necessary bits and bobs, those that are visible, that is.” She glanced at Tom. “We can’t tell the gender yet, before you ask. Sometimes you get lucky, but we don’t go looking on these dating scans.”

Tom shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“I think he’s a boy.” Natalie’s voice was quiet but clear. Tom looked at her, astonished. “Don’t ask me why, but I dreamed about him, and I can't shake the certainty off. I know it’s irrational.”

“Okay… right, well, in view of your age and your medical history, Natalie, I’d like to keep a very close eye on you. I’m going to order weekly midwife appointments, if you don't mind. These can be home visits or GP clinics, whatever suits you and the midwifery team best. You can discuss it with them next week, I see you have an appointment. And monthly appointments with me here, to begin with, please. I’m going to keep in close contact with the Cardio bods, too.” She chuckled. “They love you, it seems. Dr Koslowski wants me to ask you for baby pictures for his notice board. You’re one of his pin-ups!”

Natalie covered her face with her hands. “Oh god.”

“Only in the sense that you’re such a success story. He’s very proud of your recovery.”

Tom grinned and squeezed Nat’s shoulder with his hand. He was next to her, holding tight, trying to be supportive. He wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or his own; he found hospitals rather unsettling places at the best of times. He had a few questions of his own, however, and holding tight to Nat, he spoke up. “Can I ask a couple of things?”

“Of course, fire away.”

“Is there anything we, or I should be watching out for, at home? I understand that Natalie is more at risk of some complications…?”

“She is, but the close monitoring I’m recommending should pick anything up at an early stage. Obviously, general good health is what we want. I’m sure you’ve read that there is a higher risk of miscarriage, and that is true, but you’re almost out of the highest risk period already. And the fact that the placenta is well-positioned is a plus-point for that too.”

“So…?”

“So you two can do whatever you like, within reason, and as long as Natalie has the energy.”

Tom blushed wildly and coughed. Natalie laughed. “I don’t think that’s what Tom was asking, but that’s very good to know, thanks!”

Mrs Raja smiled and rearranged the papers on her desk, allowing them a few seconds to regain their composure. “Now, Natalie and Tom, I hope you have at least spoken a little between you about the possible next step, once we move to the diagnostic testing stage.” They nodded. “Good, well, we can offer you an appointment for CVS next week, if you want to go ahead with testing, regardless of today’s result.”

“Okay…”

“I would recommend it, Natalie. I realise that this seems all rather quick, but the risks of miscarriage are only the same as those with amniocentesis, that is just up to 1%, but because we can do CVS earlier, you will have more time to consider your options.” She looked at them for a moment. “You would get the first results of the test in three days.”

Nat looked at Tom; he had a stoic expression. _He doesn’t want this_ , she thought, _but then, neither do I. But we are where we are._ “Yes, I think so. Let’s go ahead with the CVS.”

“Good, right, I’ll do it myself, next Wednesday, just over a week from now. After clinic. Twelve-thirty-five…?” She turned back from her screen and looked at them both appraisingly. “I recognise that this is a very difficult time for both of you, but I must emphasise that, even with the inherent risks of your age, the odds on all aspects of what we have discussed are still in your favour. Complications _and_ abnormalities, I mean. And if you do happen to be in the minority as regards the result, at least if we do the testing, you will know what you are facing. Knowledge is power. And the CVS tests _will_ reveal the gender...if you want to know, that is.” Tom squeezed her again and Nat nodded. “And now I’d like to talk about happier things: your delivery.”

“Oh, right…”

“Let’s be positive, no point in dwelling on the lower percentage likelihoods! I have to say I think an elective caesarean is the most sensible option. Given your medical history.”

“Yes, I agree, but would it be an epidural in that case?”

“Of course.”

“Oh good. I’d hate to miss a moment of the birth, and my last GA wasn't exactly fun.”

“I can imagine. Long surgery?”

“Yes… seven hours.”

“Ouch.” Mrs Raja swung her chair back to her desk and opened another window on her screen. “Right, well, assuming that you do as you are told and so does the little one, the plan would be to get you to 38 weeks at least. So I will pencil you in for that week, right?”

Tom leaned forward and looked at the section of calendar that was highlighted. He whipped out his own phone and noted the dates, shaking his head slowly.

“Problem?”

“No, it just sort of hit me.”

“That you might be a father by the end of that week, right?” The obstetrician had seen similar reactions before.

“Hehe, yeah.”

“I’ve got news for you, sir,” she said, changing the screen back to the scan and angling it so Tom could see it more clearly, “You already are.”

_____________________________________________

The kitchen window had steamed up, thanks to the heat of the Aga, the recently-boiled kettle, the breath of two adults and a dog, but Natalie could still make out the ghostly shapes of her fruit trees in the waning afternoon sunshine. The two of them had left the hospital, had a light lunch at the cafe at Nat’s favourite Abbey Farm shop, then picked up a few things for dinner before heading back to Holly Cottage. She sat at the table with her mug of Earl Grey and held her phone to her ear, listening to the ring tone. Gail would definitely be at her desk, she was a workaholic, and there was no point in delaying telling her any longer. If they had been seen this morning at the hospital, as was more than likely then gossip would start in earnest, and better her agent heard the news directly from her. For the same reason, Tom was, at that very moment, confessing all to his PR man.

“Hello, Nat darling! You’re up early.”

Nat glanced at the clock over the door to the porch: it read two-ten. “Very funny. I’ll have you know I was up at seven, as usual.”

“Yeah, yeah… What can I do for you darling?”

“Well, the thing is, I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Is everything all right? Are you ill? Is it you and Tom? Have you-”

“We’re fine! I’m fine… actually, Gail, I’m pregnant.” There was no verbal response to this, although Natalie thought she heard a muffled squeak of alarm. “I had my first scan this morning. I thought you should know...”

“Wow, _pregnant_ , Nat?”

“Yes, it’s ludicrous, I know, but there it is.”

“ _Okay…_ ”

“That’s why I haven’t been working very much these past few weeks. It’s been rather hard to focus, you know…”

“Yes… right, well, how are you feeling? Is everything alright?”

“Oh, fine. It was just a dating scan today, and the first blood test for screening. We saw the consultant after. I’ve got to have the first proper test next week.”

“Oh right.”

“I’m sorry I did not tell you even sooner than this. We just weren’t totally sure, you know, how it was going to...you know. I’ll keep you informed, darling, from now on.”

“I see, yes, of course…”

“I know Gail. It’s hard to believe. Everything is, but it’s real. I’d better go now, darling. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yes, um… of course, OK. Bye, love.”

Tom walked in just as she ended the call. He was pale. “How did they take it?”

“I’ve only told Gail so far.” Natalie laughed. “I think she’s in shock. I am in shock. How did your call go?”

“Luke is rather annoyed I hadn’t told him earlier, but it’s ok. I want to ring my family now, if that’s OK, darling. Better make it Mum first. I’d hate for her to find out, you know…”

“Of course, yes, I’m sorry, I should have thought…”

Tom stepped over and swept her up into his embrace. It had been a tense morning for both of them, and knowing they needed to share their news more widely had been adding to the emotional pressure. But now it was actually happening, Natalie felt the tightness in her neck releasing with every breath. Tom kissed her softly, then released his hold and turned back for the door, heading back to her office to make the rest of his calls.

“Tom, could I…?”

“What, darling?”

It had been worrying Natalie: how would she feel, in Diana Hiddleston’s shoes, learning this news, not having even met the new girlfriend, let alone with the age difference? It was like some bad romance novel or TV movie... “I wonder, could I at least talk to your Mum, perhaps later this afternoon, or tomorrow?”

“I’m sure she’d love that. She’s been pestering me to arrange some kind of get-together, a lunch or a dinner.” He turned back and took her hand for a moment. “Why don’t you come back with me tomorrow? We can sort something out for Wednesday or Thursday, perhaps?”

She nodded. She knew he’d told his family about her, but things had been moving so fast, and with the distances involved, she hadn’t had a chance to actually meet them. And now this little bombshell was about to be dropped. “But today? I think...I’d like to say something to her today, if you think it would be OK.”

She watched him mull it over. He had become more protective of his mother, perhaps in reaction to previous misjudgements, and he wanted to get this whole process as ‘right’ as he could. “I think what I’ll do is tell her what’s happening, and once she’s absorbed that, then I’ll ask her, see what she says. Perhaps she could ring you, if she’s happy to talk?”

“Sounds like a plan, love.”

He nodded and left the room. Natalie took a deep breath, picked up her own phone again, leaned on the Aga rail and found her editor’s number.

After a quick call, full of tension and pleasantries, Natalie sat down, _just for a moment_ she thought to herself, as her legs felt a bit wobbly. She’d never been very good with confrontation, and for all his superficial politeness, Vinnie was unmistakably annoyed. Most likely it was just irritation on his part that once again, he had been kept out of the loop. But why should she tell him her every secret? She was beginning to get angry herself when Tom returned, his cheeks rosy and wet. He took the chair next to hers.

“Oh darling, is everything all right?”

He nodded, his arm sliding round her back so his hand settled at the top of her arm and he tugged her closer. “Yes, yes. It’s just, you know, Mum was rather, um, overwhelmed by the news, you might say.”

“Pleased or horrified?”

“Surprised, naturally, but I would say happy, on balance. She’s going to ring you in an hour or so. I said you had to call your daughter first.”

“Oh.” Nat felt the nerves start up again, battalions of butterflies fluttering in her abdomen. There was no way Diana would be like Graham’s mother, but even so, it was a daunting prospect.

“She’s quite excited to talk to you. She loved _The Harris Particle,_ for a start. I get the impression she feels you’d make a fantastic addition to the family, despite me trying to explain our... well, you know, how soon it all is for both of us.”

“Oh, right, well, that’s good.” She squeezed his hand. _It would be so easy to say yes to him, too easy. Too simple a response to a very complicated situation._

He shook his head with a rueful smile. “So I’ve been told off for wasting time. Again.”

“Does that a lot, does she?

“Hehehe. Yes. I think she’s running out of patience with me.”

“Well, Vinnie’s livid with _me_.”

“Is he? Why?”

“Oh, he was courteous enough, but I could tell. I think he’s angry that I’ve only just told him. After last time, you know, with my heart op? He’ll get over it, but I just hate those kinds of conversations; I’m no good at them. I always want to appease people, apologise, even when I haven’t actually done anything wrong, just because I can see people are upset. Despite the fact that it’s not my fault at all.”

“I know what you mean. I have tendencies that way myself.”

Natalie smiled and stroked his cheek, wiping away a stray tear that lingered. “Oh, I know, you people-pleaser, you…”

“But you shouldn’t allow Vinnie, or anyone else, come to that, to make you feel like that, you know.”

“I know…”

“That was supposed to be one of things you were going to talk about…”

“...at therapy, yes, and I will, I expect. If I can fit it in, between all the other appointments.” She was aware she had yet to contact the therapist her GP had recommended, but there had been no time.

“Good.” He lifted his phone. “Speaking of pleasing people…”

“What?”

“I said I’d send Mum the picture.”

“Oh, OK.”

“I know it’s early, but she understands the situation, Nat. She’s fully aware of what’s happening, with the tests and everything.”

She reached for his hand, taking the phone so she could look again at the tiny image, at the round shape of his head, his legs, his little fist raised in what she considered a defiant salute. _I am here, and get ready, because I am coming, regardless…_ “There will be more tests, you know that, even after the second lot of results.”

“Yes, the anomaly scan. Dr Raja said-”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to feel safe, Tom. Not until I’m holding him.”

“Isn’t that normal?”

She thought for a moment, allowing her mind to return to the happy time of her first pregnancy, when life was very different and the future looked rosy. Even then, she worried. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

Some time later, while Tom rang his sisters and his father, Natalie called her daughter to fill her in on the events of the morning. Helen was thrilled with the ultrasound picture and the report of Mrs Raja’s consultation: “Do you think you’ll stick with her, Mum?”

“I don’t know, darling. It rather depends on, well, you know, geographical factors.”

“What do you mean?”

“On where I’m living, dear.”

“Oh…oh, _I see_!”

“But she’s lovely, and she’s certainly giving me five-star treatment so far, no complaints there.”

“Sounds like it. Right, gotta go, afternoon surgery’s about to start. Talk tomorrow?”

“Of course, bye love.”

After that brief conversation, Natalie sat on the sofa by the fire and waited for her phone to ring, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl outside the headteacher’s study. When it did, with the display telling her it was the expected caller, she took a deep breath and answered.

“Hello Mrs Hiddleston.”

“Natalie? Please, call me Diana. It’s so lovely to speak to you at last.”

“Yes. How are you, Diana? I’m sorry you had to hear our news over the phone.”

“Oh, my dear, that’s not a problem, I understand that you both needed to get through this morning. How was it? Not too terrible?”

“Not at all, actually. The consultant seems lovely, making all kinds of provision for me. I feel very well looked-after...”

“ _Harrumph_. And so you should.” A lovely tinkling laugh came down the line and Nat felt herself relax and settle more comfortably onto the cushions beneath her. “Now, Tom tells me you are coming up to town with him tomorrow, so we should be able to actually meet you this week. That will be simply marvellous.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it very much.”

“Lovely, lovely. And young Bobby has been behaving? He can be a bit of a rascal.”

“Well, yes, but then, he seems to like it here. I’ve got a garden full of apple trees, and a box of dog toys. And I think he likes me.”

“Yes, Tom said that he knew you were special by the way the dog took to you.”

“Did he?”

“Oops, probably shouldn't have told you that, hahaha… Mother’s prerogative, letting little cats out of bags, isn’t it? Tell me, how’s your daughter getting on? Tom tells me she’s a GP. We should plan a larger gathering soon. I would love to meet her too.”

“That would be great. Yes, that’s right, she’s at a big urban practice in Birmingham. She and her wife seem to be doing better, now that man has been charged. But then, they were OK before, as far as most of us knew.”

“Yes, nasty business. But he’s in the right place, I understand.”

“I think so, yes.”

“Well, dear, I won’t keep you talking, I expect you’re tired after the day you’ve had.”

“I am quite.”

“Let Thomas spoil you. It’s the least he can do.”

“I will. Thanks, Diana.”

“I’ll see you in a day or two, Natalie.”

“Yes, bye-bye.”

________________________________

The world outside the kitchen window was dark now, but inside there was light and warmth, and more love and happiness than Natalie had ever known. She was sitting at the table, sipping her tea, watching Tom’s back as he washed the dishes and finished clearing away after dinner. He had insisted on doing everything, including cooking the meal after spotting her obvious tiredness that afternoon, despite her having spent the remainder of the day “doing nothing” as she had put it. Since the call from Diana, Nat felt she had done little but doze on the sofa with a dog on her legs, watching TV or reading, while Tom had waited on her, hand and foot. It was lovely, but she wasn’t entirely comfortable about it. She put down her tea mug and he scooped it away to the sink.

“There’s no need for this, you know.”

“I want you to save your energy, darling.”

“But I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh, I know that.”

“What are you up to, Thomas?”

He chuckled and turned the top half of his body towards her; his eyes were dark and heavily-lidded. “Can’t you guess?”

“Oh.” Nat’s stomach did a few somersaults.

“Only if you wish, of course, my love.”

She smiled and stood up, which sent Bobby skittering on the tiles as he had been asleep on her feet again. She wandered towards Tom. “Oh, I wish, but…”

“You’re still a bit nervous?” She nodded. “Me too, so I have a plan.”

The lighting was low, the bed looked soft and welcoming, and the warmth of the kitchen was reproduced in that room too. Cosy, comfortable, romantic; Tom had excelled himself. She went to undress but he caught her hand with a swift shake of his head: _my job_.

“You can’t do everything, Thomas.”

“Tonight, yes, I can.” Gently, he removed her clothes, starting with her warm calf-length cardigan, and gradually, as her body was revealed to him, he expressed his love and desire with little kisses and nips, teasing touches and tickles. He ran his fingers down the fading, silvery line of her scar.

She sighed. “I’ll have a new one, soon.”

“Good.” He bent to kiss and lick it, dwelling, nuzzling. He loved that mark: it was the outward sign of the act that had saved her. It meant her survival. It meant she was here now, with him, carrying their baby. He dropped to his knees and pressed his face tenderly to her belly. He moaned a little.

“Oh Tom…”

He glanced up at her face. “Do you remember?”

Natalie took in a juddering breath. “Of course, how could I ever forget? Nobody had ever made me come before.”

He slipped his hand between her thighs teasingly, fingertips playing on the skin, making her shiver. “Let’s do it again.” He looked up and she nodded, so he whispered almost inaudibly into her skin as he allowed his hand to drift upwards. “Close your eyes, or look the other way, sweetheart.”

“Mmm?”

“Just telling the little one to let Mummy and Daddy have some grown-up time.”

“Oh Tom...” Her voice was almost a sob.

“Darling, I didn't mean to…” He stood up again and took her in his arms.

“It’s alright. I’m just… it’s those words, from you… and seeing him today.” She looked into his eyes. “He’s really there, our little boy. He’s real, he’s ours, Tom.”

He nodded, smiling, holding back tears, if not entirely successfully. “Yes, I know.”

She scanned his face. “So, have you had a chance to think about how you might feel, if we are among the unlucky ones?”

He nodded, his jaw firm, the smile enduring. “Yes. Like you said, he’s ours.”

Natalie buried her face in his chest. She felt a sort of peace flow through her, as if something had been settled now. All the real uncertainty remained, but they knew what they would do about it, whatever it turned out to be, and that was what mattered. Tom relaxed against her, felt his body aligning with the floor, his limbs straightening, his whole being calming. They would get through it, whatever the coming weeks, months and years brought them, he felt sure of that now.

Nat’s hands began to move: one caressed the muscles of his back, the other moved down to the waist of his jeans, slipping inside the back where his belt was loosened.

“Uh-uh, no, my job.”

“Oh, come on…”

“Maybe later, then, but for now, you lie down and let me take care of you, my darling.”

She allowed him to guide her to the bed. “But you are going to get undressed, right?”

“Of course.” He was relentless. Kind, gentle, loving, but relentless. She needed this, he knew it, he felt it. His hands and his lips brought her to the brink of ecstasy and over it, and she cried and laughed and clung to him. And afterwards she returned the favour.

And much later, when they were both more or less asleep, wrapped close together in the full dark of a country night, breaths in harmony, Tom grunted softly into her hair, the sound of someone just realising something.

“Mmm?”

“Mum was right.” His grip tightened a little, tugging her closer.

“Was she?”

“I should stop wasting time.”

“Well, yes, bu-”

“I know I said you should think about it, and that I would wait, but I don’t think I can, Nat.”

“Darling…” Nat grabbed his head and pulled him in for a kiss that felt urgent but also calm, as if she was saying to him that the conversation wasn’t over yet. “Can you be patient with me, just a tiny bit longer, my love?”

She felt him nod. “Of course. Sor-”

Her finger pressed gently to his lips and stopped his habitual apology. “Shhh. Now, come on, Mummy and Daddy need their sleep."


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tests of all kinds.

_“QF-PCR and FISH are molecular tests that can be performed on a CVS sample to provide a rapid but accurate diagnosis of Down's syndrome and two other rare but serious chromosomal syndromes called Patau's and Edwards' syndromes. Results take on average three working days. All hospitals can offer this service through the laboratories they use, but some will ask you to pay a fee._

_A full karyotype means the laboratory use cells from the sample to look at all the baby's chromosomes under a microscope. They check for any major changes in the chromosomes and can tell the baby's sex. It is a longer process than the rapid tests and results can take up to two weeks._

_Genomic microarray (Array CGH) is an advanced method of genetic testing of a sample from CVS or amnio. It can detect copy number changes in a baby's chromosomes. This means it looks for where there are deletions (bits missing) or duplications (where there are extra bits) in the baby's DNA that would not be identified through the full karyotype. It is now sometimes used instead of or as well as karyotyping.” **From ‘CVS results explained’,**_ [ **_www.arc-uk.org_ ** ](http://www.arc-uk.org/)

  
  


“Can I get you anything else, Mum, besides a drink? A magazine? Chocolate, some biccies?”

“No thanks love. I’m OK, I’ve got my book,” Natalie laughed, “and I’m trying to steer clear of the sweeties. You know I have no will-power.”

“Well, yes, _that’s_ obvious.”

“Helen!”

“ _Mother…_ ”

A raised eyebrow, and her daughter was gone, leaving Natalie blushing in the small ward with two other, much younger patients. They both smiled sympathetically; all three were on compulsory one-hour bed rest following their CVS procedures. She shrugged her shoulders, grinned and rolled her eyes: _disrespectful_ _children._ Then her phone buzzed.

  * _How was it, darling?_
  * **_Fine, love x_**
  * **_Whatever time is there?_**
  * _Silly o’clock. Doesnt matter. Did it hurt?_
  * **_Nope. I had a local, and shes so good. It was really fast. The worst bit was the cold gel for the ultrasound_**
  * _And youre OK?_
  * **_We are. His heart was beating away good and strong._**
  * _:)))_
  * **_Now I have to rest for an hr then H will drive me home_**
  * _Good._
  * _Sorry I had to miss this_
  * **_Its fine._**
  * _Yeah but_
  * **_Nonsense. You didn't miss anything much, promise_**
  * _OK. Message me when youre home. Love you xxx_



Tom was half a world away, in Asia, fulfilling promotional commitments to Marvel and thus unable to be with her for this appointment. He would be back in a week, before she was due to see Mrs Raja for the initial results, but he had been frustrated at not being there for this crucial test. Natalie was less concerned. Helen made an excellent substitute: she was kind without being indulgent, gentle and yet no-nonsense, she knew what questions to ask and where to go to get the answers. And sometimes a woman in these very female situations wants another woman with her, no matter how much she loves her man. And Nat’s daughter had another quality which was very welcome that day: she knew when her mother needed to be left alone. It had been a trying few days, and once they were back in Lower Hergest, and Helen had settled her on the sofa, lit the fire and made sure she had something quick and easy for dinner, Natalie made it clear she was happy for her daughter return home to Birmingham. 

The week had started in London. The journey there was fine; more than fine. It was enormous fun travelling with Tom. He was a good driver, he told entertaining stories, he was a delight to listen to as well as to look at, and the time passed easily, even in the heavy traffic they encountered once they reached the city. But she had been very nervous about meeting his family. Tom had decided on a catered dinner at his house for simplicity and privacy, and Diana had been the first to arrive. She had greeted Natalie very warmly, hugging her even before her son, and her eyes were as kind as her voice. His sister Emma and her husband Jack, however, while not being unfriendly in any way, were much cooler, and Emma asked one or two questions in the course of the evening that had unsettled Nat and drew sharp looks from her brother. Later, when all the guests had left, Tom took Natalie into his arms. “I’m sorry about Emma. I’ve no idea why she was being like that.”

“I have, and it’s fine.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s being protective. Of course she is. It’s completely understandable.”

“ _Protective, hmm,_ maybe...But there’s no excuse for being rude.”

“She wasn’t rude, though.”

“What, asking how old Helen is? Twice? And about your house, and your publishing contract in such a pointed way?”

“She’s worried for you. I don’t meet expectations”

“What expectations? And even if you don’t...!”

“From the outside, darling, you have to admit, it looks bad. Strange, I mean, we’d hardly been seeing each other a month or two, then...”

“Emma’s not on the outside! I’d already told her I was in love with you.”

“Well, I expect she’s just being a good sister. I mean, Helen was worried about you too, come to that.”

“What, did she think I was bad for you?”

“No, on the contrary, she thought I was a cradle-snatcher.”

“Oh, very funny…”

They had managed to laugh about it that night, but inside Natalie had been discomforted and hurt. Had she really expected his whole family to welcome her with open arms? Had she really been that naive? Perhaps, given Tom’s overwhelming charm and then Diana’s friendliness, yes, she had. But now she was back down to earth with a bump. And there was another sister and Tom’s father to go yet…

And then came the phone call from Mrs Raja about the blood results. Turns out they weren’t in the highest percentage, but they weren’t in the lowest either, so that hadn’t made for restful nights. After five days in Belsize Park she had caught the train back to Herefordshire while Tom prepared to set off for the Far East, and once alone again she had struggled not to fall into her accustomed habit of believing the worst. Helen had been working on her mother, doing her best to get her to be more positive going into the CVS procedure, and she had been largely successful. Now, as she sat warming her toes and trying not to obsess about every little tingle in her abdomen, Natalie realised she was feeling less anxious than she had three days earlier.

  * _So, how are feeling now, darling?_
  * **_Good. Cosy by the fire. You OK?_**
  * _Fine. Knackered but thats normal on these tours_
  * **_I assume_**
  * _So I had a message from Dad. Hes offering to host a get together next week_
  * **_Is he?_**
  * _Yes, To meet you, Helen and Phil too. At his place in Oxford_
  * **_OK_**
  * _Mum says shell come._
  * **_Thats good :) OK_**
  * _He will love you Nat._
  * **_Not sure abt that._**
  * _He will. Anyway, Ive asked him to wait until the week after, so well after weve seen Mrs R_
  * **_Yeah. Best_**
  * _Yeah_
  * _I miss you_
  * **_Me too darling_**
  * _Sure youre OK? Cramps?_
  * **_Yes a few v mild ones but thats normal apparently. Nothing bad. I am really OK. Just a bit tired and missing you and Bobby_**
  * _You could fix that_
  * **_I know darling_**
  * _Sorry_
  * **_Its OK_**
  * **_Love you Tom xx_**
  * _Love you too Nat xxxx_



______________________________________

“Well, Natalie, Tom, I won’t keep you waiting. Sit down, please.”

Tom held her hand tight as they found the chairs and sat quickly. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to read what her screen said, even though it was too far away and Mrs Raja was literally about to tell them what they needed to know anyway.

“Everything so far has come back as normal.”

“ _Oh thank fuck-_ oh, sorry.” Tom leaned his head against Nat’s and she felt him shudder with a barely held-in sob of relief. She wasn’t sure if she was surprised or happy or what she was feeling. It was strange.

“Not at all, a perfectly normal reaction, Tom.” Mrs Raja smiled and then looked more serious as she glanced at both of their faces. “As I said, the results show no signs of Down’s Syndrome, nor of Patau’s or Edward’s. Now, I must tell you that there is a very small chance of a false negative with this test, _but it is very small indeed_. The sample I got was a good one, and the remaining standard tests are being done which would reveal anything if there had been a problem with the initial result, but those take a bit longer to come back, another week or so. We will send you those results by email, unless there is something to discuss. Those will include the gender of your baby, of course.” She turned and checked her paperwork briefly. “Let me just, um...neither of you reported any genetic conditions in your family histories, did you? No...so we are only doing the standard tests, that’s right, yes… so, now we can move on as normal with your care, and the next big thing will be the anomaly scan, which will be in about six weeks. We can make the appointment for that at your next regular appointment with me, Natalie.”

She smiled again, broadly, and her face was lit up by it. _She looks so young_. “So, I just carry on now then, seeing the midwife?”

“Yes, and I’ll see you in three weeks at our regular monthly appointment, unless you misbehave. You’re keeping well?” She looked through Nat’s mobile notes, which listed her weekly blood pressure and urine tests, those weathervanes of pregnancy.

“Yes, in fact I’ve been feeling really great this last few days, actually.”

“Second trimester, that’s typical. How was it at home after the CVS? Any spotting or cramps?”

“A few cramps, a tiny bit of spotting, but barely any.”

“Good, good. Well, another week of abstinence, just to be safe, but that’s excellent, and the baby looks completely fine so far, as do you. Dr Koslowski would be so chuffed.”

______________________________________

Afterwards, she thought about how odd it had been, how out of place she had felt, how lost and adrift between two conflicting roles. Much more so than at the family dinner at Tom’s house, and possibly because they were in James’s home and Helen was there too, she found herself unsure which team she was in, or worse, which she should be in. Was she a grown woman, a professional writer, a proud and happy parent, introducing her GP daughter and her wife to everyone; or was she the new, accidentally-pregnant, older-than-her-boyfriend girlfriend, nervously meeting his Dad for the first time? Both, of course, but which should be her proper constituency? She had a foot in both camps, and yet somehow, in the swirl of conflicting emotions and uncertainty of that evening, she felt that she belonged in neither.

One other fascinating effect Natalie noted: meeting his father had sharpened something in her perception of Tom. Perhaps, now she had both parents and a sister for comparison? She pondered the mystery back in London later that night, and she watched his movements with a new perspective. A renewed hunger flared in her belly, and she could taste her need for his touch. He sensed it.

“You have a very interesting look in your eye tonight, darling,” he said quietly as he slid into bed beside her.

She smiled enigmatically. “Just observing you. Enjoying the view, as usual.”

“Hmmm.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I know you a little better than that, Nat…”

She rolled onto her side and looked into his face from a few inches away, her eyes scanning the contours, taking all of it in for the thousandth time, still marvelling at his beauty. “I was just thinking about DNA, and how it works, combinations and all that.”

“You mean, what, after meeting Dad?”

“Yes.”

“I told you he’d love you.”

Natalie smiled. James had been very much as she had expected: a neat, efficient man, polite and very welcoming to both her and Helen and Phil. He was not as effusive as his ex-wife, but that was not surprising. And Nat had loved to see the obvious affection between him and his son; she knew they had a great relationship despite (or perhaps because of) the trials they had been through.

She stroked Tom’s face. “I’m so grateful. I’m not sure all parents of his generation would be so forgiving in the circumstances. I mean, of course he was lovely to Helen and Phil, but it’s a bit pathetic at my age to get pregnant by mistake, don’t you think?”

He frowned, and shook his head sharply. “No, not at all, Nat. And Dad wouldn’t-”

“Oh, I know, I’m simply counting my blessings.”

“Darling, I love you, my family know that, and whatever happens, we-”

“Shhhh…” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. “Now, all that observation has made me hungry…greedy...” Her leg slid between his and she tilted her pelvis. Tom moaned and closed his eyes as she wrapped her hand around his hardening penis.

“You want to…?”

“ _Yessss…_ ” It was more of a breath, but it was so full of desire it made him fully erect as the sound brushed over his cheek.

“I’ll be careful.”

“No need, love, he’s well-protected. And I need you, Tom. God, how I need you tonight.”

It had been six or so weeks since they last made love like this; Tom had lost count. It felt like ages, and he had almost forgotten how luxurious it felt to be enveloped by her body, to feel her warmth and her pulses all around him. The velvety, wet heat of her sex that was his home, his destiny… He had fallen in love with Natalie’s mind first. He had wanted desperately to meet the woman behind the words and characters that had bewitched him; they had become friends by chatting online and on the phone; but when he saw her that day in Sue’s office, standing there so beautiful and strong, and yet somehow so vulnerable in the winter sunshine, his heart had raced ahead across the room to her, dragging the rest of him in its wake.

And now, scant months later, here they were, making love so tenderly, in her bed, and she was carrying his child.

_Our child._

_Our son? She thought so, and she was right about so much…_

Nat tugged on the longer curls at the back of his neck and squeezed her thighs on his waist. She was desperate for release. This pregnancy was making her more lustful, she was discovering, and he was going too damn slowly, as if he had been daydreaming instead of applying himself. Tom’s movements remained languid, so she tightened her inner muscles, which made him gasp.

“Nat, is that-”

“It’s fine, that was me.” She bucked her hips a bit more urgently and this time he got the message, speeding his movements, but still holding back a little, out of caution. “It’s OK, love.”

“I know, but…”

“ _Please, Tom_.”

He could feel it in the base of his neck, that grinding, whirling sensation that mirrored the one in his groin, driving him to thrust harder and faster. It was safe, he knew that rationally, and after a few moments’ hesitation, Natalie’s urging won him over and he let his body loose.

All was still and quiet, the room comfortable around them as they relaxed. Tom took in a deep draught of air, letting it out slowly, loudly and with relish. “There’s no other feeling like it.”

Natalie snuggled closer into his chest. “Like what?” She guessed, but wanted to hear him say it.

“Coming inside you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll never regret doing that.”

She felt herself on the verge of tears; what a beautiful thing to say. “You’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, shhh.”

“It’s true, but we should go to sleep. It’s late.”

______________________________________

Natalie was alone when the last part of the puzzle fell into place for her. Since the dinner party in Oxford, she had stayed on for a few days, writing at Tom’s desk, while he worked next to her, went to his office at _HCR,_ honoured whatever engagements he had or ran on the Heath. She went with him to walk Bobby, to have breakfast or lunch, to the theatre or to shop for groceries. Nothing had been said, but she had no wish to go back to her empty house, and definitely not to be that far away from him. But she needed to be practical: her next appointments were looming and a definite decision needed to be made.

Then the chime told her a new message had landed in her inbox. She skimmed it, then picked up her phone.

  * **_Ive had the email_**
  * _Hold on_



Her phone rang. “And?”

“All OK. Nothing showing up on the extra tests.”

“ _And…_?”

“What?”

“ _Natalie_!”

“Oh, it’s hardly news, Tom. I already told you he’s a boy.” She was grinning so hard her face hurt.

“So you were right?”

“Naturally.”

“Oh, Nat… I’m coming home. We should… I don’t know, but we should do something!”

“Well, if you insist…”

He had walked to the office, and now he ran home, arriving in such a state of excitement that he sent Bobby into hysteria. The dog was leaping and shrieking his joy as Tom and Natalie waltzed and snogged and collapsed onto the sofa. Still breathless, they gazed at each other as the spaniel scrabbled, trying to get between them. He was politely but firmly rebuffed, and he finally settled, rather begrudgingly, for a place on the cushions beside Tom.

“So.”

“So, Thomas?”

“Have you, you know, had time to think anymore, about what…?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got an appointment to talk to someone at that clinic tomorrow.”

“The one here?” His eyebrows were raised so high she thought she might cry.

She nodded. “Yes, well, I want to see what they can offer me.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Please!”

He gathered her even closer, pulling her onto his lap in a movement which had become familiar. She settled against his chest, her nose tucking under the line of his jaw. She loved the ticklish feel of his beard, the warm smell of his skin, the strength of his arms, the feel of his muscles underneath her. She felt him breathing, slow and deep, and his heartbeat, strong and steady.

_This heaven is mine. Mine. No idea how this miracle has happened, but it has, and here we are. All three of us._ Bobby grunted in his doggy dream. Natalie wished she could drop off as instantly. _Sorry, Bob, all four of us. Even the damn novel is going well...fuck, don’t say it!_

Tom shifted slightly. “What time is your appointment?”

“Ten-fifteen.”

“If I can fix something up, fancy looking at some houses, maybe, in the afternoon?”

She uncurled and stretched like a cat, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why not?”

_______________________________

It was only when she finally stopped typing and leaned back in her chair that the screen on her phone caught her eye. She had deliberately placed it just out of sight, at the back of her desk, where the screen of her computer mostly hid it. Her wireless headphones kept out the noise of any messages; it was a technique she had employed before, when the creative juices were flowing and it felt like a bad idea to allow interruptions. Tom was busy, Helen was working, she was not expecting anyone, so there was no need to be available.

But now she saw them - a dozen notifications from her daughter, of increasing stridency. She picked up the phone.

  * **_Im fine love, just working. You OK?_**
  * _Not rly. Solicitor rang this am. Looks like Gordon is getting released pending trial_
  * **_Oh no_**
  * _Hes agreed to trmt, so they don't have grounds to hold him until hes sentenced_
  * **_Will you apply for some kind of restraining order?_**
  * _Solicitor says there will be conditions but im not happy_
  * **_No of course not. Hows P taking it?_**
  * _Oh u no her. Brushing it off but I can tell shes anxious_
  * **_Oh love._**
  * _Sorry to interrupt you._
  * **_Nonsense. Ive finished for the day now anyway. Want to FT tonight?_**
  * _That would be great. TTYL xxx_



Natalie closed the document on her screen, switched the computer off and stood up. She raised her arms above her head and stretched her back. She couldn’t help feeling pleased with herself, even with this renewed worry about the stalker. In the past few days she had made more progress with the novel than in the previous five or six weeks. The future was by no means settled, but the big uncertainties that had stopped her working were at least a little less worrisome now, and that seemed to have freed something in her. Perhaps it was, in part, the knowledge that she would soon be leaving Ernie’s house. Had that added a degree of urgency, however unconscious? She didn't try to examine it too closely, because from past experience she knew that doing that tended to break whatever spell it was.

And now this. _Parenthood never really stops, does it? Another lesson I keep having to relearn..._

She crossed the hallway, switching on lights as she went. The permanent warmth of the Aga made the kitchen welcoming, and she stepped over to the sink to fill the kettle, looking out into the near-blackness of her garden. A movement caught her eye; a barn owl swooping low between the apple trees, in pursuit of a vole, no doubt. She thought about the beautiful houses they had looked at in Hampshire: mansions, massive compared to this tiny cottage, or indeed anywhere she had ever lived. All of them were considerably larger than Tom’s house in London, which was what he was after, and with much more outdoor space. Some had paddocks and stable blocks, which had made her laugh when she read the brochures ( _oh yes, thick, glossy brochures, not three sheets of photocopied A4… how the 1% live…) Will they have wildlife? I liked that one with the woodland… Oh god, this isn't me, this isn’t my little life, not real, can’t be…_

But she knew it was, somehow, and she had to apply herself, and along with Tom, make decisions, however weary just the thought of it made her feel. She had made one big one already, and tomorrow she was going to tell her beloved midwife that she was moving to London for the rest of her pregnancy. And after her, she had to tell Maxine… Leaving would be a wrench, and she was still finding it painful to think about. Apart from a few clothes and books, and all the research for the novel, she was going to get professionals in to do the lion’s share of her packing. And not yet. Not until they had somewhere, because there wasn’t really room in the house in Belsize Park for much more (and definitely not anymore books). 

Ironically, just as she was moving in with him, Tom was about to be off, leaving to embark on the massive promo tour for _Infinity War._ He was frustrated at the timing, but Natalie was less concerned: she needed the time alone to work, and she had found that she could do that as well in his house as here. Better, if anything. She loved to be surrounded by his belongings, his pictures, his books, his smell. She felt certain she would cope on her own as she was used to it, and anyway, what with writing, looking after Bobby and all her antenatal appointments, her time would be well-occupied. And she would be preparing for her appearance at the Hay Literary Festival, not to mention finally starting therapy.

She turned back into the room, put the kettle on the Aga, then wandered over to the fridge to look inside, trying to recall if she had already chosen her dinner or not. There was a large container of minestrone soup, which looked and smelled enticing, so she opted for that, remembering she had some nice crusty bread in the bin. It would be a quick meal as well, which was handy because with Helen needing a chat later, she wanted to be cleared up and available for Mum Duty when her daughter called.

_That’s one more thing I need to bear in mind: I’m not going to stop being Helen’s Mum when I have this one. She won’t be jealous, I’m sure, but she’s never had to share me, not in that way. And I’ve never had to divide my attention between two offspring… Another new skill to acquire._

Busying herself with the preparations and her mind buzzing with the near future, it took a moment for Natalie to realise what had happened. Then she felt it again: a light but unmistakable fluttering, low down on the right side. Her hand went to the spot, then to her mouth to stifle a sob. She left the saucepan of soup and sat at the table, reaching for her phone.

“Nat?”

“Oh _TOM_!”

“What’s happened? Is everyth-”

“I just felt him move!”

“Oh, did you? Oh wow…”

“Yes! Oh, Tom, I wish you could feel it.”

“What was it like? Tell me...”

“Like a little tickle. A flutter. Like someone flapping a hanky or something… it’s hard to explain, but I knew what it was right away, and I had to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did, darling.”

“Soon he’ll kick harder and you’ll be able to feel it too.”

“Can’t wait!”

“I can - that can be bloody uncomfortable!”

A hundred and fifty miles away in his London kitchen, Tom stood up and paced the floor, startling Bobby from the snooze he had returned to after the excitement of the phone ringing. The dog looked up uncertainly. Was this a walk in the offing? It was dark outside, but … No, Tom left without speaking, so Bobby sighed and trotted off in pursuit, anxious not to miss out on any possible activity. In the dark of the living room, Tom sat down on a sofa, switched on a table lamp and tapped his phone screen.

“Mum? Nat just called me; she just felt the baby move for the first time.”

“Oh darling, that’s lovely! Thanks for letting me know. Everything else alright?”

“Yes, as far as we know. She’s seeing her midwife tomorrow, and she’s going to ask for her records to be sent to the Westbourne Clinic. I’m driving over to pick her up on Saturday.”

“Thomas, I’m so pleased. And how’s the house-hunting going?”

“Don’t ask… We’ve got a shortlist of five, but it’s difficult to choose. I don't want to put pressure on Nat, I know it’s a stressful time, but I’m leaving in two weeks on that damn tour.”

“Can I help at all? You know, you only have to ask-”

“I know, thanks, Ma. I’m sure, if there is anything, we’ll let you know. I think it’s primarily a matter of working out, you know, what our priorities are.”

“You know, I bet Natalie has a favourite. Have you asked her?”

“Not in so many words, no. What makes you say that?”

“House-hunting’s like that, I’ve found, anyway. There’s usually a sort of _coup de coeur_ moment. And if she hasn’t had one, then you might not have seen the right house yet.”

He groaned. “Oh, don't say that!”

“Sorry, darling, but believe me, if you’re looking for somewhere to bring up your family, it has to be love…”

“Like Blockley, you mean?”

“Yes, not necessarily exactly like that, but it has to have the right, you know, feeling, _atmosphere_ , I suppose you’d call it.” She sighed. “I’m afraid it’s one of those things you can’t anticipate or describe. You just know it when you come across it.”

Tom leaned his head back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I think I know what you’re getting at. And I’m not sure we’ve encountered that yet, no… Thanks Mum. Bye.”

“By-bye, darling.”

Tom stayed as he was, staring at the ceiling for a while. It was his fate, it seemed, to be surrounded by wise women. So the hunt would have to continue. Sighing, he reached for that day’s fresh pile of brochures. Perhaps their future home was hiding in there somewhere. 

____________________________________

Maxine settled down at their usual table, watching the door. She fiddled with the drinks menu, picked up her phone, put it down again, looked around. _The Flying Dutchman_ seemed moderately busy for a weekday; she hadn’t been there for a while, so she didn't know if this was normal or not for a Thursday. She glanced up as the door opened and a man came in; a stranger, not Natalie, not her dearest friend, whom she missed terribly. Then she saw a blonde head appear behind him, and there she was, smiling, a quick wave and she was walking over.

“Max, darling! Sorry! I couldn't find anywhere to park, I ended up having to go right over behind the church.”

“It’s fine. I just got here myself.” She smiled awkwardly. It had been weeks since they’d seen each other, not since that day when they had argued at Natalie’s kitchen table and parted on bad terms. There had been a few brief text messages since then, but things had been cooler than for years. Not since the worst times of Natalie’s marriage, when her husband had put barriers between them, had they been so estranged.

_And this time it was me who did it,_ thought Maxine.

“Oh, come here.” Natalie walked around the small table and embraced her friend. Max held her tight and tried not to cry. “I’ve missed you, darling.”

When they parted, both had damp eyes. “Me too. How are you, love?”

“I’m fine.”

“Helen & Phil? The sex god?”

“Stop it! They’re fine, all of them. How are the boys?”

“Oh, you know, causing mayhem, not applying themselves, the usual… Seriously, though, this whole Uni application thing is terrifying!”

Natalie nodded, then tipped her head towards the buffet counter. “Look, let’s get our food, shall we? I’ve got something to tell you.”

Some minutes later, when soup and salads had been chosen and they were back at their table, Maxine picked up her spoon and looked across expectantly. “Well?”

“I’m moving in with Tom.”

The spoonful of leek and potato soup which had been heading for Maxine’s mouth was frozen in mid-air. “When, now?”

“This weekend, actually, yes.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t approve, I assume.”

“No, I do.”

Natalie took a mouthful of her winter salad and munched, to give herself a bit of thinking time. She hadn’t been sure how Maxine would take this news; she had been so negative about the pregnancy that it had caused something of a rift. She hadn’t allowed herself to get too upset by her oldest friend’s behaviour, reasoning that she would accept the situation in time and that their friendship would survive it. But this wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. “Oh, you do?”

“Of course: it’s what you want?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And you love each other, of course.”

“Yes. Very much.”

“Then I’m happy for you, darling. After all, I told you to seize the day, didn’t I? I’ll miss our lunches, naturally.”

“We’ll still see each other, love.”

“I should hope so! And you’ll be sick of me hanging around, once you have the sprog…”

Natalie put her fork down and reached for Maxine’s hand. “Thank you.”

“What, for being such a bitch to you about the baby?”

“No, for saying what I needed to hear. You’ve always been that person for me, and I’d hate it if you thought you had to stop.”

“But I went too far this time.” She looked into her friend’s eyes. They had been through so much together, over the years, so many ups and downs in their respective lives; long periods of distance between them, but their bond had always survived. “I hate it when we fall out, Nat.”

“Me too, love, but we didn’t, not really.”

Maxine pulled a face. “Maybe, but after all that you’ve…”

Natalie shook her head. She knew what her friend was getting at. “Really, Max, it’s OK.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I never wanted to spoil things.”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t.”

Maxine picked up her roll and tore off a chunk. “So, if you’re moving out, what are you going to do with Holly Cottage? You’re not selling, are you? Because if you are, I’d be happy to act for you.”

“No, thanks for the offer, but I’m keeping hold. It’s too precious. The girls can use it as a weekend bolt-hole. We can, too, for holidays and so on. And other family, perhaps.” She looked at her plate, poked at the shredded cabbage and carrot. “Ernie saved my life, leaving it to me. I could never just sell it.” She sighed; it wasn’t an easy thing to do, walking away from that house. “Apart from anything else, most of my stuff will have to stay there for now, until we find a place together.”

“Oh, so you haven’t-”

“Not yet, no. Tom’s house isn’t that big, and it’s pretty full already. I’m just taking a few things with me. I’ll get some movers in once we settle on somewhere.”

“Ooh, tell me, where are you looking?”

“Hampshire-Wiltshire border, that corner, you know?” Max nodded. “We’ve got a few we like, but none that’s really, you know…”

“Set your heart on fire?”

Natalie shrugged. “No.”

Maxine put down her spoon, her face set in an expression Natalie knew all too well: determination. “I could help.”

“Oh, I don't know, Max…”

“It’s my area of expertise, Nat. And I have the contacts, don’t I?”

“Well…”

“Tell you what, I’m off on Saturday. Why don’t I come over for coffee before you set off with Tom for London? We can have a proper talk about what you’re looking for, you can show me what you’ve looked at so far, what you like, what you don’t… Then I can be your personal shopper!”

“You’d do that? But it’s not in your firm’s area.”

“For my bestest friend, in her hour of need? It’s doable. I know people. And for a bit of commission, if I can wangle it, but even if not…? You’re damn right I would!”


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change, upheaval, new homes, new life...

_“The latest such finding comes from a_ [ _new study_ ](http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/17405629.2016.1266248?scroll=top&needAccess=true) _of 4,741 mothers and children in Denmark, published in The European Journal of Developmental Psychology. Researchers tracked the mom-child dyads longitudinally, checking in when the kids were 7 years old, 11 and 15. Among their findings: older moms generally resorted less to verbal and physical punishment than younger moms did — though those findings did get a little wobbly at the 15-year point. The children of older mothers also had fewer behavioral, social and emotional problems than kids of younger mothers, at least at the 7- and 11-year-old points, while adolescence again seemed to muddy things up. The study controlled for factors like income and education, and attributed the results mostly to the greater patience and steadiness that comes to adults as they age.” From **The Benefits of Being an Older Mother**_ [ **_http://time.com/4709403/older-mother-benefits/_ ** ](http://time.com/4709403/older-mother-benefits/)

Tom stood in the drive for a few minutes before he went back inside, just looking at Holly Cottage. Despite the light drizzle, he wanted to take it in. This wouldn’t be the last time they’d be here, but today felt like the turning of a page: momentous, life-changing. Natalie was coming back to London, to live with him. She was leaving this beautiful place, which held such special memories for them both; he knew it was emotional for her, but it was deeply affecting for him, too.

He glanced at his car; the boot and rear seat were packed, almost to the roofline with bags and boxes, even though they were only taking some personal objects, valuables, breakables, and all the things she couldn’t live without for the few days before the movers brought the rest of her essentials. He smiled as his heart swelled with joy. He had been hoping for this day for what felt like ages, but it had hardly been a few months. Their love had taken over his life, but not in an obsessional way; Nat had simply become as essential to him as food, drink and shelter. And finally, it was happening. He closed the driver’s door and headed back indoors.

He found her sitting at the kitchen table, looking at the instructions for the Aga.

“Everything all right, love?”

“I think so… I just wanted to make sure I didn't need to do anything else. You know, to make it completely safe. Patrick’s going to pop over every week to check on things, make sure there aren’t any leaks or anything.”

“And cut the grass for us?”

“Yes, bless his heart.” She sighed and looked up. “Are you ready?”

“I am, my darling, but the important question is, are you?”

She smiled weakly. “You know, when I came here I never thought I’d ever leave. Except feet first, that is.” Tom pulled a face. “It was so perfect for me then, the ideal place to hide… But then, I could never have anticipated any of the things that have happened to me in the last year or so.” She shrugged and stood up. “I’m going to miss my apple trees, though.”

“So is Bobby.”

“Well, perhaps we really should try to find a house with an orchard, then.”

“We did put that on our wish list for Max.”

“We did.”

He laughed, helping her into her warm cardigan. “She’s very, um...”

“Forceful?”

“I was going to say ‘enthusiastic’, but yes.”

“I know. But actually, she’s a really good estate agent. I mean, very, very successful. She’s worked her way up, had to when her ex basically left her with nothing. But now she co-owns the firm, and they sell the fanciest houses in the area. For, and to some of the richest clients.”

“So that’s what she meant about having the right contacts.”

“Oh yes, she knows pretty much all the agents who handle that sort of property in England. In the whole of the UK, come to that.”

“You should have said. We could have put her on the case sooner!”

“Well, I might have, except we weren’t really, you know, speaking, for a week or two.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Anyway, we’d better be making tracks, hadn’t we?” Tom nodded. “But before we go, I’d better make one last nostalgic trip to the loo.”

Natalie smiled as she walked along the hallway. The walls were comparatively bare now - all the family photos were packed in the car. She had left the less precious, not so personal paintings, and all the local drawings and historic map prints in situ, but already the place had taken on an altered atmosphere. It was as if somehow the house knew she was leaving. She allowed her fingertips to trail on the dado rail as she passed. _Goodbye, old house. I will be back, you know. We will be back to visit you. All of us._

_________________________________

“I’m really sorry, I’m just not…” Natalie squirmed uncomfortably on the chair.

The woman opposite her smiled indulgently. “Please, don’t worry. Most people find it very difficult at first, especially if we are talking about things, or saying things that they have never really said to anyone else before.” She paused, her gaze softening even more. “It’s perfectly understandable.”

Natalie nodded, on the verge of tears. It was a place she was all to familiar with lately; pregnancy had that effect, and the recent upheavals of moving and saying goodbye to people she was fond of had brought her emotions very near the surface. And now Tom being away as well didn’t help. Sitting in this comfortable room, trying to talk about painful things to a total stranger, however beautiful, however professional, however sympathetic, was simply the most recent of the ordeals, and if not the most painful, certainly the most embarrassing.

“We don’t have to start with the hardest stuff. Why don’t we talk about your childhood a little bit today? We can get onto the difficult areas later, when you feel ready to share that with me.” Natalie shrugged. “OK, good. So, you grew up in Norwich?”

“That’s right.”

“Tell me a bit about that.”

They talked for a while about her early life, which had been happy, at least until her father’s death. But inevitably, as the conversation continued, they got onto the subject of university and that meant Graham, and Natalie felt her resolve not to get too emotional starting to crumble.

“I think we should leave it there for today,” Dr Kauffman put her notebook down and leaned forward in her chair, elbows on knees. “I want you to go at whatever pace you feel comfortable, This is a safe place to say whatever you need to say. No judgement. OK?”

Natalie nodded but wouldn’t look up, once again filled with the same emotion that always flooded in when she thought about that awful time. Weighed down by it.

By the shame.

The cringing, nauseating, horrible shame, that flooded into every corner of her mind, pushing at the good things in her life now, poking them, prodding, sneering. _You don’t deserve this, look at what you did before. Look at what you allowed him to do. Look at the life you lived. For years. How can you be worthy of any of this?_

Now the tears came, and she couldn't stop them. The therapist didn't say any more, simply passed her the box of tissues.

__________________________________________

  * _How was it, love?_
  * **_Hard_**
  * **_How are you?_**
  * _Im fine. It will be tough at first, but worth it. You know that, darling_
  * **_Yeah. But it hurts_**
  * _How are you otherwise? Feeling OK?_
  * **_Yep. Eating like a horse._**
  * _I bet you arent._
  * **_Oh I am, Thomas. But only the good stuff. So, hows California?_**
  * _Too, you know, sunny._
  * **_Boo hoo._**
  * _Bobster behaving?_
  * **_Actually he is. Helping me with the gardening this evening_**
  * _??_
  * **_He dug a hole in the corner by the fence_**
  * _Little bugger!_
  * **_Thats more or less what I said LOL_**
  * _I should have time for FT tomorrow eve your time. OK?_
  * **_That would be heavenly_**



**___________________________ **

  * **_Darling, I think Im standing in our house_**
  * _Really? Which one?_
  * **_The second on Maxs list. Remember I said the name was an omen. Buxton House._**
  * _It did look good. You love it?_
  * **_I do Tom. Really_**
  * _Then we must buy it_
  * **_Youre sure?_**
  * _If you are_
  * **_Your Mum likes it too_**
  * _Then I have no choice ;)_
  * _Ill call later for a proper chat. I cant talk now. Abt to get on a bus with James, Ben and the others. Don't ask._



Maxine had come to the rescue, as she promised she would: taking their wishlist, she had worked diligently and found three new places for them to look at. The last two she had to take Natalie to view without Tom, as he had already departed on his trip, so Diana Hiddleston joined them. Not too big, in wooded grounds and surrounded by lovely countryside some five miles from Andover, Buxton House had everything they wanted and more. Most important, as they had rounded a corner in the drive and Natalie first clapped eyes on the front of the building, there was that feeling that had been missing up until then. The one she’d had when she first saw Tom, more or less: true love. A feeling of belonging, of being home.

**_____________ **

By the time Tom returned from his promotional tour, tired but full of anecdotes and laden with gifts for the baby, Natalie was feeling much happier than she had been when he left. She was pleased with her care at the Westbourne Clinic, Tom’s house felt more like her own home, Bobby had begun to look to her as much as to Tom for food, cuddles and walks (although his Dad remained the main instigator of games), and she had become a familiar presence around the neighbourhood. Most important from both their points of view, they had finally found their place in the country, and she was making good progress in her therapy sessions.

She was getting to know Rebecca Kauffman, and they had begun to talk about the years of her marriage in detail, which while being a painful process, was helping Nat to understand her feelings better and better. And not just about that time, but about everything since; she was slowly recognising the truth that she saw all of her life through a filter, one that her ex-husband Graham had created. A false one. Even though she had known - intellectually - that he was wrong about her, and about so much else, the damage he had done to her self-esteem and to her self-image was profound. He had fixed on the sadness her father’s death had left in her heart and used it against her. Whether he did so consciously or not, it was cruel and harmful. And it might have damaged Helen too, had it not been for Natalie’s instinct to always protect her, as the therapist pointed out.

As the weeks passed, the progress Natalie was making in her personal life was mirrored in her work: chapters of the novel were being written, and she was happier than ever with what she was getting down. Tom would bring her drinks and remind her to take breaks, but mostly he did his best not to get in the way. He knew she was keen to get the book finished, if she could, before the baby arrived. Her final deadline was, in theory at least, approximately one week after her due date.

Natalie’s health continued to be good: the anomaly scan showed no worrying signs, and apart from a slight rise in her blood pressure, all else was well. She was ordered to be careful or risk being admitted to the clinic for bed-rest. Anxious to avoid that, she listened. So she did rest, as much as she could, and more than she might have without Tom there to keep an eye on her. But it was difficult. Because as if undergoing therapy, writing a novel, finding a new home and being pregnant weren’t all enough for Natalie Banks (or indeed anyone) at the age of fifty-two, before the summer got properly underway, she was to be one of the new authors appearing at the Hay on Wye Literary Festival.

_____________________________________

“All set?” Gail’s face was shining with excitement, her blue eyes sparkling.

Natalie took a deep breath. “I think so. Do I look OK?” Gail nodded, smiling. Natalie picked up her iPad, checked for the thousandth time that her notes were on there, and stood up. It was time to go, time to make her solo debut, to give her talk entitled _“Why I Write.”_

Not her choice, but the subject she had been given by the festival organisers. Along with the other denizens of the _New Authors_ tent, part of her contract included a presentation on a theme of their choosing. In fact, after initial teeth-grinding, she had recognised it as a chance for some therapeutic ‘homework’, and had come to welcome the inadvertent opportunity awarded her by the Hay Organising Committee.

Gail looped her arm around Nat’s as they set off, out of the ‘green room’ tent, across the crowded lawns and towards the large marquee where she would be speaking. The day before she had been one of four writers, all newly-published in the last twelve months, who had faced a large but mostly friendly audience. Natalie’s only real complaint had been about the heat in there; it was a sunny day and the temperature was soon rising high enough to make it uncomfortable. Nat smiled at the memory of the questions they had been asked by the audience after each had read a short extract from their work: the inevitable ones: _‘Where do you get your ideas?” “How do I get an agent?” “Where should I send my manuscript?” “What format should I use?”_ There were a few specifically for her, about the filming of _The Harris Particle._ Some wanted to know how she had managed to get her book noticed, and she had to explain that it hadn’t been her doing at all. This afternoon, following the end of her talk, there would be another short Q and A session.

They paused as they reached the entrance, awaiting their cue. Natalie looked at her phone. There was a good luck message from Tom, and one from Helen. Maxine, she knew, was in the audience somewhere inside the tent. A young woman appeared with a head mike and fitted it to Nat, attaching the battery-pack to the back of her jeans, tapping the tiny microphone to check it was working. Suddenly, Gail was urging her forward and she was guided onto the stage to the sound of polite applause. Mariella Frostrup was introducing her, and then there was no escape. She looked out into the sea of faces, put her iPad down on the lectern and began.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming.

Why do I write? I never asked myself that question much in the early days, when I was doing it, not for fun so much as a form of therapy, I suppose you could call it. The first novel I wrote was never really meant to be read by anyone; I used the third person and made up names as a sort of defence-mechanism, a way of making it less about me. You know, to keep it at arm’s length. But it was about me, all of it. Every last word, every last feeling. It was classic catharsis: I wrote it all down, in a great convulsion, sometimes long into the night, sometimes waking early in the dawn light, because of a terrible compulsion, an overwhelming need to get it all out and onto a page. Once I started it all came out in a matter of a few short weeks. I think I had hoped that by doing that I would feel better about what I had been through in my marriage, or that at least I would be about to put some distance between myself and the pain of it. The shame of it.

But it didn't work. Not then, anyway.

When it was finished, I printed a copy, put it in a drawer and tried to forget about it.

But what did happen was that writing got hold of me. I had enjoyed the process, the nuts and bolts of it. I always had, I suppose, all my life. I had dreamed of being a novelist when I was a teenager, and I never stopped enjoying writing, whether it was for study or just for work. I always liked to get the prose just right. Having so much more time to spend on it now I was alone in my cottage, I started to write more and more: little essays, descriptions of the village where I lived, memories of my childhood, short things, nothing much; then one day I had the idea for the science fiction plot which eventually became _The Harris Particle._ I sat down at my laptop on rainy days and in the evenings, but still it was all purely for my own amusement. It was a way of filling my time, and of forgetting that I was on my own.

But this is where my best and oldest friend enters the scene. Unbeknownst to me, she had taken a copy of the manuscript of that first autobiographical novel, _The Tear Garden,_ and sent it to a few literary agents. Out of the blue I received an email from a woman called Gail Girling asking if I would be interested in allowing her to represent me… Something of a shock, as you can imagine. In fact, it turned out she had already sent the manuscript to a few publishers but none wanted it then. However, one, Gipping Books, did want to know if I had written anything else, so I sent her the silly little sci-fi… and the rest, as they say…

I should say here that I am sure this part of my story infuriates those of you who have been striving for years to get published without success. I can only apologise and say this: I feel that so much in life depends on luck. On being in the right place at the right time. And in all honesty, I feel I have had my share of the bad sort in my life as well as the good. Nevertheless, I do understand if I sicken some of you with my good fortune.

To get back to the subject, the day I got that email from Gail marked the beginning of the change in why I wrote. From the moment Gipping offered me a contract, writing was no longer a hobby, it became a job. I still have to remind myself of that, and I’m now working on my third novel. Why do have to remind myself? Because I still feel the same way about writing: I still love it and hate it in equal measure. I’m sure those of you who have ever tried to write anything know what I mean. It is a joy and a pain, it rules your life, it takes over, it steals your sleep, it can make you very difficult to be with, even selfish. When it comes easily, which is rare, it’s wonderful. When it’s hard, it can be like pulling teeth.

And it’s usually hard.

So, I am writing for a living now, and that has changed my relationship with it in some ways. I have to apply myself, be more professional. I have to work every day unless I have a good reason not to; I can’t not write for a week and not worry about it, any more than a person in any job can simply not turn up. I can’t forget about a project, not if I’ve taken an advance, not in the way I used to. Before, I could start something, decide it wasn't working and let it just die a quiet death in a dusty corner of my google drive. Not any more, oh no. Also, writing has become a much more collaborative thing. And not just with my editor at Gipping, Vincent Campodifiore, who knocks my work into shape, and without whom I would not be standing here, believe me. He is vital, but also, before the fact, long before a single word is typed, there are others involved too. Decisions have to be taken about what to write, what even to think about writing, and these are not mine alone. Not nowadays.

This makes it sound rather less fun than it used to be, and I suppose, to a degree, that is true. But then, a professional footballer or dancer would probably tell you the same. When it is your job, you have to take it more seriously. You have to put a lot more in. However, it is not a one-way street. Writing has given me much more than just an income; so very much more. What I am talking about is the need to think about how to express feelings, even if they belong to imaginary people in imaginary situations, forces the writer examine their own, at length and in great detail. And that is not a bad thing for any of us. And in my own case, my first serious writing was about my own feelings in real, quite traumatic situations, albeit fictionalised versions of them, so it did have great relevance for me.

I wouldn't say that my therapy is completed; far from it. But writing was the beginning of the process and it has helped me to gain a vocabulary with which I can move on to the next stage in coming to terms with my own past, and for that I owe it everything.

As I said, I still have that same love-hate relationship with the actual process of putting the words down. I doubt that will ever change; it seems to be universal, from what I have gleaned from other writers, in person or on the page. But I can’t stop. I probably never will. It doesn’t seem to be a choice, rather it is an imperative. An addiction? Possibly. A vocation? I prefer that description. I realise, looking back over the past few years, that ‘writer’ is not so much my profession as simply a description of me. So in answer to the implied question, I would say: _I write because that is what I do_.”

Her mouth was dry, but she had made it to the end. She could see Max in the front row, clapping, Gail beside her. _Well, it’s almost over._ She felt a hand on her arm as Mariella stepped up to the rostrum. “Thanks to Natalie Banks for that most entertaining talk. Now, Natalie, if you’re happy to answer, we’ll take some questions from the audience…?”

“Yes, of course.”

They moved over to the seating area and sat down. Natalie felt a rush of anxiety, but Mariella smiled encouragingly and pointed to the water on the low table next to her.

“So, does anyone have a question for Natalie?” A few hands went up. “Yes, lady in the pink top over on the left.”

“Do you find it harder to write in London than you did in the quiet of your village in the country, since you moved?”

“Good question, thank you.” Natalie smiled, relieved it was an easy one to start with. “No, oddly, I don’t. I had already found that on short visits, writing in the city was much the same. I have to work at avoiding distraction, but I always did.” The woman waved her hand. “Yes?”

“Might I ask a follow-up?”

Natalie glanced at Mariella, who nodded. “Go ahead.”

“How do you do that? Avoid distraction, I mean?”

“Ah, well, I have a few strategies, not all of them are universally successful.” There was some polite, sympathetic laughter. “No phone, of course, or other forms of messaging. The blander the view from the desk the better, but not a brick wall or similar, I find that too much. Trees seem to suit me the best. They’re soothing, I suppose. And I like a bit of Bach or Schubert piano music, not too loud, just enough to block out any traffic or other sounds. But in all honesty, in my admittedly limited experience, if the words are flowing, they will come regardless of what is around you, and if they aren’t, then you simply have to sit there and grind away. “

There were a few more questions in a similar vein, and then Mariella pointed to a middle-aged man in a crumpled linen suit. Natalie thought he looked like a bookshop-owner or perhaps a professor of English Literature. “Ms Banks, good afternoon. It seems that now you are going to gain some notoriety for your work, in addition to that you already have for your personal life. What advice would you give to aspiring writers who don't have the advantage of being one half of a ‘celebrity couple’?” She went cold; her arms felt numb. Mariella waved to the young man who was holding the microphone, and he took it away, cutting off the sound. Natalie was mortified. Most people in the audience were mortified. She had feared that someone might bring Tom up, but this was hurtful. It disqualified her: Natalie is not worth it on her own. _And the man had looked so inoffensive…Just like Graham did when they met._

“Ms. Banks, that was totally inappropriate, I’m sorry. Actually, I think we’ll stop the questions there,” Mariella was saying, “ so, thanks again to Natalie Banks, author of _The Harris Particle._ You have another book coming out in December, isn’t that right?”

“Um, y-yes, the one I mentioned in my talk, it’s called _The Tear Garden._ ”

“Well, we will all have to keep a lookout for that, it sounds very interesting. And I know you have another production in the pipeline ahead of that.” Mariella was smiling. Natalie smiled back, but said nothing more, simply nodded. “Well, I’m sure everyone here wishes you the very best of luck with that, and with the book. Ladies and gentlemen, Natalie Banks.”

__________________________________________

**_Four months later_ **

The shadows outside were lengthening as Natalie read through the last few pages and made her final corrections, clicked on a few keys, then pushed her chair away from the desk and sighed. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was relief or sadness she was expressing; a bit of both, perhaps. As intensely personal as her last one, this novel had been long in the conception, complicated in the gestation and occasionally painful in its delivery, but at last it was more or less ready. She allowed her eyes to wander over the tottering pile of books and folders of research she had done. Next to it was her treasured photo of young Ernie Banks, the wide-eyed teenage soldier. The innocent. He didn’t know who he was, or what he was, not then.

_That’s what the book is about. Him finding all that out; his war with himself and the world around him. I hope people get that._

Heaving herself carefully out of her chair, Natalie stood and walked the few steps to the windows. Her gaze glided over the view; the trees were beginning to turn, the sky had that threatening look, and there was a definite nip in the air. Autumn was coming, it was undeniable now. What she hoped was the the final draft of _A Private War_ was now in the hands of her editor, and it would be up to him to take it to its next stage, because she had more immediate, more intimate matters to deal with.

She took a deep breath as the baby in her belly drummed his limbs against her diaphragm, making her smile. Her left hand was resting above her breast, feeling the edge of the raised flesh where the battery for her pacemaker was hiding just beneath the skin. A year ago - _was it really only a year? -_ she had hoped she might postpone her heart surgery indefinitely. _But life doesn’t work that way, Nat, you know that. You are living proof that we never know what is around the next corner._ Nothing that had happened to her in the last twelve months could have been imagined from her study in Lower Hergest, nothing beyond the thrill of being a published author, that is. And yet, here she was: in London, in love, with child, and happier than she had ever been… Her fingertips moved to her surgical scar, now just a faint pale line, barely raised, over her sternum. _I might have died. I could have, without this, and instead, I am here, in this dream of a life..._

Natalie was sitting with her feet up on the sofa when Tom and Bobby returned some time later, hot, bothered and in Bobby’s case, covered in dirt and bits of dead leaf. “What the fuck have you two been doing?”

“Language, Mummy!” Tom admonished in his best Captain America voice.

“Sorry, but honestly, if I can’t trust you to go for a quick walk with a spaniel without creating mayhem…” She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the laptop she had balanced on her bump. Tom took the dog through to the kitchen, brushed him off and refilled his water bowl. Then he poured himself a big glass of water and stuck his head around the doorway.

“Can I get you anything, love? A drink? A snack?”

“I’d love an iced tea, darling. There’s a bottle in the fridge.”

“Okey-doke. Nothing to eat?”

“You don’t think I’m fat enough?”

“Hehehe. You’re not fat, you’re _beeeoooootiful_.”

She puffed out her cheeks and he shook his head as he ducked back in to get her drink and grab a banana for himself before he joined her on the sofa. Natalie had been very mindful of her weight, having put too much on in her first pregnancy. Aware of the many and various risks, she had been meticulous with her intake, to the point that her midwives and obstetricians both in Herefordshire and latterly in London had to tell her to eat a bit more. Her diet was well-balanced, there just hadn’t been enough of it. She had increased her carbs and protein a little and they stopped telling her off.

“What are you looking at?”

She sighed. “Curtains.”

“Ooh! Can I see?”

She passed him the laptop. “With pleasure. If I have to look at another virtual swatch I think I’ll scream.”

“Didn’t Gabrielle send some suggestions?”

“Yes! _Hundreds…_ that’s the trouble. I wish she’d just do the whole damn house for me. I haven’t the energy…”

Tom snaked his arm around her shoulders and set her MacBook aside. “Let me ring her tomorrow. We can arrange to go down there, meet her to go through the house one more time…”

“Oh god….”

“No, wait, hear me out.” He turned his body towards her and she looked into his face. “We’ve settled on the kitchen, right?” Natalie nodded. “And his room, and ours, and the big family room. And the offices. So the main ones are done... I think Gaby knows our taste now. She can probably do it with minimal input. Let’s just do a walk through, point her in the right general direction, wind her up and let her go, yeah?”

“I won’t have to choose anything?”

“Bare minimum. Say, brights or pastels, greys or beiges, something like that…? And from then on, you only have to choose baby clothes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, my darling.” He kissed her nose, his hand resting gently on her bump.

“Oh thank _GOD!”_ Natalie closed her eyes and allowed her head to lean back to rest on the cushion, then jumped slightly and laughed as the baby kicked firmly. “See? He agrees.”

“Yes… although you know, we really need to sort out his names.”

She groaned loudly.“Oh, no… _more choosing_ … you promised!” There was a smile in her voice, however. They had a shortlist, and it was just a matter of whittling it down from six to two.

“How did it go with the novel today?”

“Oh, it’s gone. I sent it to Vinnie this afternoon.”

“The final draft?”

“I hope.”

“Ooh, we should celebrate!”

“What did you have in mind? Champagne? Dancing?”

He frowned. “You never used to be so sarcastic… How about dinner down the road? A nice early one?”

“Can I take my stool?” Swollen ankles had become her constant companion and Tom had bought her a folding camp stool to take everywhere.

“I’m sure.” He reached for his phone. “Let me just book us a table.” Natalie smiled to herself as he tapped the screen, nodded and put it back down on the table. “What?”

“I was just remembering the first time we went there. Who’d have thought, that day…?”

“Yes…”

“I did the sums, you know. That was probably _the day_.”

“Was it? Wow…”

“Yep. There I was, fretting about whether or not to hold your hand in public, and you’d already got me up the duff!”

“Well, my darling, I think our secret’s out now. You’ve got two hours to rest and get ready. Do you feel up to the walk?”

“Yeah, it’s down hill, isn’t it? We can always get an Uber back.”

“Or I could borrow a trolly.”

“Cheeky sod. Oh well,” she waved her hand over her distended belly, “the romance is dead, I guess.”

Tom wrapped his arms around her, kissed her passionately until neither had any breath, then growled into her neck: “Never!”

_____________________________________

**_Three years later_ **

This was it. This was her dream: this room, creamy, high-ceilinged, full of flowers, light and music. Widor’s _Toccata..._ She could hear it before she got to the doorway, loud and shimmering and exactly perfect for this moment.

And there _he_ was, running ahead of her, jumping with joy and sheer exhilaration in his little black velvet jacket and patent shoes, his blond curls bouncing, shouting above the sound of the organ “Daddy! Daddy! Mummy’s coming! She’s bootiful, she’s got her bootiful dwess on!”

And there was her man, the truly beautiful one in this relationship, waiting for her. And their son, just the way she had dreamed him, running to jump into Tom’s arms and being lifted up onto one hip to wait, with his Daddy, for Mummy to join them.

She had to stop, at the end of the aisle, just for a moment. She had to just look. She felt Maxine and Helen nudging her gently from behind.

“It’s OK,” she whispered. “Just taking it in for a sec.”

The music thundered on, William was bouncing in time in his father’s arms, Tom was watching her, his face shining with love and happiness.

_This is my life, this dream._

And then she stepped forward, onwards again, into the rest of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will probably be the last of Tom and Natalie, unless they start speaking to me again. I have said such things before about characters, and been wrong... Thanks for reading, and for all the lovely comments I have received; you guys are THE BEST xxx


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